Lariat of Power
by TheDreamyOne
Summary: The secrets of the Isis' Tear pendant leads Ardeth, his fellow Medjai, and his close friends on an adventure that will test the young chieftain's heart and spirit. [Sequel to Sphere of Ma'at] [Many OCs]
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Lariat of Power

**Author: **TheDreamyOne

**Rating: **T

**Type: **Adventure/drama/romance

**Summary: **The secrets of the Isis' Tear pendant leads Ardeth, his fellow Medjai, and his close friends - the O'Connells, on an adventure that will test the young chieftain's heart and spirit. (Sequel to "Sphere of Ma'at")

**Disclaimer: **The Mummy, The Mummy Returns, Ardeth Bay, Rick and Evelyn O'Connell...belong to Universal, Stephen Sommers, etc. No infringements intended. Najya, Kyle, and all original characters are property of the author.

**Chapter One**

"They are breaking camp," Jubran Masruq observed, lowering himself down to sit beside his Chieftain on the harsh sand dune.

"I did not think this day would ever come," Ardeth acknowledged and waved at the spectacle impatiently. "They will spend the night and take their leave when dawn approaches." He shifted slightly, adjusting the long dark robes worn by the Medjai. He had forgone the more elaborate robes worn by the chieftain in favor of the normal warrior garb. It made him less conspicuous to their enemies, and made him more comfortable amongst his men.

Jubran nodded and remained silent, turning his dark hazel eyes to Ardeth's profile. At age thirty-seven, several years Ardeth's senior, he wondered that it never bothered him that the Chieftain of the Twelve Tribes of the Medjai was not older and more seasoned. Jubran chalked it up to Ardeth's presence. No one could doubt Ardeth Bay commanded respect and deserved it. The man, the warrior, was practically a legend in his time. He went up against He Who Shall Not Be Named twice...and lived to tell the tale. Honor dictated his actions in all things and held him reverent to his Medjai oath. Time and again he proved his worth as a leader and no one would challenge his right to the title of Chieftain either by blood or deed.

After spending the last two months in close company with Ardeth, Jubran could easily read his _S__âHib's_ moods. Many conversations had led to the knowledge that although Ardeth Bay's duty remained always at the forefront of his mind, his heart lay elsewhere, and that was truly where he wished to be.

Ardeth turned his attention to his companion and smiled guardedly. "The men will be anxious to return to their tribes, as I am sure you are, _y__â S__âHib._"

Ardeth saw the slight nod of Jubran's head echoing his own desire to return to the arms of their people. "First we must report to the Elders. The men may return to their tribes immediately, but I must visit the Seventh Tribe."

"_Aiwa_. Elder Hamid Mu'afa will be expecting a report. Hadad, Qadir and I will accompany you, _y__â ra'__îs._"

"_Shukran_," Ardeth replied. "Rami and Marid Mu'afa will travel with us, as the Seventh Tribe is their home."

"Their relation to Elder Hamid has not bothered you?" Jubran asked curiously as he kept watch over the large group of warriors gathered around their camp in the near distance. The other twenty men would head directly to their tribes with the light of the new day.

"_L__â_," he assured his friend. "Their duty is to their oath and their chieftain. They have no interest in the politics of the Council of Elders."

"I agree. They are good, loyal men…as are they all."

Ardeth nodded, shifting his gaze back to the camp below. "Foolish Americans. They risk all for the faint hope of riches and glory. They know nothing of the danger they might stir."

"Luck is with them that the evil that once lay dormant beneath the sands is no longer a part of Hamunaptra," Jubran added as he stood to leave.

"Evil stains this place for all eternity. He Who Shall Not Be Named left his mark in each grain of sand. Yet, you are right. If his body remained, we would have had to do the unspeakable."

"_Aiwa, y__â ra'__îs._ And these fortune hunters would have paid with their lives."

Jubran bid Ardeth goodnight as they approached camp and the chieftain made his way to the solitude of his tent. Jubran noticed a small faction of warriors gathered around a low burning fire. Several tribes were represented in that circle, and pride entered his heart knowing they had become close friends and brothers over the last couple months.

"Commander," Qadir acknowledged as the group stood to honor Jubran, Commander of the Eighth Tribe.

Qadir Omran was a member and warrior of the Eighth Tribe and held Jubran in the utmost of respect. His closest companion, however, was Hadad Thaqib, Jubran's Honored Second. Qadir studied both men as the group once again seated themselves about the fire. Both he and Hadad stood a good two inches taller than Jubran' six feet two inches, but that did not lessen his stature in either man's eyes.

When Hadad removed the ghutrah wrapped around his head, Jubran joked that it was time for his second to see about a hair cut. Unlike Jubran, whose thick black hair barely touched the collar of his robes, Hadad's jet black hair hung past his shoulders in long wavy ringlets. Self-consciously, Qadir ran a hand through his own long, curly dark brown locks, fearing he would next become the object of the commander's teasing.

Instead, Jubran glanced quickly at each man, and said, "We will return to our tribes at dawn. The Americans have finished their business and will leave for Cairo in the morning."

"That is good news, _y__â ukh_," Hadad commented, his brown eyes gleaming in the firelight. "Yet, why do I feel you have not told us everything?"

Chuckling, Jubran slapped a hand to Hadad's shoulder. "The Chieftain must report to the Elders, so he will be traveling to the Seventh Tribe."

"Then we will accompany him," Hadad insisted.

Jubran nodded. "I have already pledged our assistance to him. After he has completed his task, he will undoubtedly return to the First Tribe."

"Perhaps not," Qadir inserted, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.

"What do you mean, _y__â S__âHib_?" Marid Mu'afa questioned curiously.

"It has been many weeks since the Chieftain has seen his intended, and although he will wish to see his _ume_, I believe his desire to see the woman he loves will outweigh that wish."

Hadad looked from Qadir to the young warrior Marid. Both were close in age, Qadir having one summer less under his belt that Marid's twenty-eight. He then fixed his gaze upon the quiet one of the group, Rami Mu'afa, Marid's older brother by three summers. Rami and Marid were the sons of Elder Hamid Mu'afa, head of the Medjai's Council of Elders.

"Has there been word from the Council on the chieftain's petition to marry?" Hadad asked curiously. Although reluctant to invade on Ardeth's private affairs, he knew it to be the topic of discussion in each household throughout the Twelve Tribes of the Medjai.

Rami shook his head. "To my knowledge, the Council has not made a determination. I can say that my father is in favor, however, there are several Elders who do not approve of the outsider."

Marid grunted and picked up a thin stick lying beside the dying fire. "The reason behind the campaign to deny the chieftain is well known. Elder Ghazi al Khashshab's oldest daughter, Sidrah, was chosen by the Council to wed the chieftain only last summer," he explained, jabbing at the fire with unconscious hostility.

"_Aiwa_," Rami agreed. "Ghazi was furious when Ardeth refused the council in favor of this _mara_, Najya."

Jubran shrugged. "I was not among the warriors that witnessed the happenings at Philae, but have heard the tale by one who was present; Azeem, Honored Second from the First Tribe. He watched as Ardeth took his own life to save the world. And then when the heartbroken Najya could not bear what had happened, she took hers as well. He stood in awe as he watched life restored to them both."

"Najya is rumored to be the descendant of Isis' High Priestess, Neffara," Hadad interjected. "I, too, have heard the tale from Azeem. He was at first leery of this woman, but now has nothing but respect for her. The Elders should not interfere in this matter."

"Agreed," Rami stated emphatically. He stood purposefully, clutching his ghutrah firmly in one hand while running the other through his straight, shoulder length black hair. "And perhaps this conversation should end, lest we begin to sound like the old gossips that gather around the well while doing laundry."

Amidst a burst of laughter, the group disbursed to their respective tents after extinguishing the small fire.

As Jubran neared Ardeth's tent, the chieftain stepped outside. Jubran halted his steps and joined Ardeth. "You have orders, _y__â ra'__îs_?"

"_Aiwa_," Ardeth responded with a curt nod. "Send a message to Ratib. As Cairo Museum's curator, he can contact the necessary people in the Egyptian government to inspect the artifacts that the Americans unearthed in Hamunaptra."

"I will send a falcon at first light," Jubran acknowledged. "Egypt must keep her treasures, if possible. This will at least give her a chance."

Ardeth nodded his agreement and slapped a hand to Jubran's shoulder. "_Leila Sa'eeda"_

"To you as well, _y__â S__âHib_"

* * *

With the firm breeze in his face, the wind tousling his blonde hair, Kyle Shearer carefully directed his riverboat to a stop in the bustling Giza port. He then turned the helm over to his first mate and made his way to the gangplank to wish his passengers well as they disembarked.

He smiled amusedly when the last passenger stood at his side. "I hope you enjoyed your time aboard the Eclipse, Miss Zaghloul."

"That I did, Captain Shearer...and all the more so since the passage was free," she answered teasingly.

"That could change," Kyle goaded, brushing from her cheek an errant lock of black hair that escaped her long braid.

"I doubt that," she joked and playfully bumped her shoulder against his.

Kyle chuckled good-naturedly. His thoughts turned inward as he escorted Najya to their nearby offices. Since the time she came back into his life, their friendship had blossomed into something akin to family. He had always believed anything that might tie him down would be unwelcome, but he had been without family for too many years. Asking Najya to help with the bookkeeping when she had come to him after her adventure with Ardeth in Isis' Temple on the Island of Philae had been the best thing to happen to him in years.

He had been glad she accepted, since she needed somewhere to stay. She had not been ready to return to the Medjai, having feared their rejection on many levels. She had originally come to the Medjai as a potential enemy and, aside from the powers she possessed, she was an outsider. That fact was emphasized when Ardeth shared with the Council of Elders his decision to marry her. Kyle knew that news hurt Najya more than she let on.

Ardeth hid nothing from Najya and told her how the Council argued that he must comply with the marriage that they had arranged for him. When he refused, some on the Council insisted his marriage to the sorceress would never be permitted. Others argued that it was the Chieftain's decision and should be supported. That was where things were left when Ardeth was informed of the expedition headed for Hamunaptra. He and Najya remained in limbo.

"You're not listening to a word I've said," Najya complained once they had reached the office. She waited patiently while Kyle unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry. I drifted. What were you saying?" he asked, bending down to gather the mail that had been shoved through the mail slot while they had been away.

Najya watched intently while Kyle shuffled through the countless letters. "I said, I believe Mother had more journals," she informed him and reached into her bag to extract the journal she had taken from Drake Bentley at Philae. "See the inside of the back cover?" She held it out for Kyle's inspection.

"Three of six is penciled in the corner," he observed. "So there may be five other journals?"

"That was my conclusion," she stated. "Anything of interest there?" she asked suddenly, her eyes still on the letters he held.

"Reservation requests and bills. Nothing..." he trailed off, suddenly realizing Najya was seeking word from Ardeth. "I'm sorry, Naj. I'm sure he's all right."

A deep sigh left her as she leaned against the nearby window. "He is unharmed, if that is what you mean," she agreed. "I can sense him and I know he lives," she assured Kyle, her hand coming to her breast as though guarding her heart. "It is just..."

"I know, kiddo. It's been a while."

Before further comments could be made, a swift knock came at the door before it swung open and a young boy ran inside. "Miss Najya! Miss Najya!" he called loudly.

"Kazeem!" Najya greeted and bent down to ruffle the boy's unruly black hair. "How are you, my young friend? And your father?"

"Father is quite well, Miss, as am I," he stated proudly, drawing his eight year old body up to its full height. Kazeem was the youngest son of the Port master and very proud of his father. "A message came for you this morning from the museum curator in Cairo." He held out a small envelope to Najya. After she accepted it, he gave a slight bow. "Good day to you Miss, and to you as well, Captain."

Kyle chuckled as the young boy ran out before either he or Najya could respond. "Never let it be said that Kazeem is impolite."

Najya nodded absently while opening the envelope to discover a tiny scroll inside. Unrolling it, she read the short message. A smile of pure delight lit her face when she turned looked up at Kyle. "It's from Ardeth."

"Why am I not surprised," he teased. "What does the Chieftain have to say?"

"The expedition has ended and he is on his way to report to the Council." She kissed his cheek quickly and then ran to the stairs at the back of the office. "I must hurry."

"Hurry for what?"

"I feel like going for a horseback ride," she explained elusively and headed up the stairs.

Kyle shook his head at the retreating back of his friend. If she thought she was going to make this trip alone, she had another think coming. With an impatient sigh, Kyle left his office and made his way to the nearby stables.

...to be continued.

Translations:

--

_S__âHib_ -- friend

_y__â__ ra'__îs_ -- my chief

_Aiwa_ -- yes

_Shukran_ -- thank you

_L__â_ – no

_y__â__ ukh_ -- my brother

_Ume_ – mother

_Leila Sa'eeda --_ Good Night

_mara_-- woman


	2. Chapter 2

**Lariat of Power**

**Chapter Two**

"Oh, Rick, don't be ridiculous," Evie chastised good-naturedly as they made their way through the hotel's crowded restaurant.

The hotel was not the best in Cairo, but it was clean. Their original reservations had been lost, and they had been forced to look elsewhere. Rick took an immediate dislike to the owner, but Evie convinced him that it really would not make much of a difference. They would be staying only long enough to gather supplies to travel to the Valley of the Kings and stay for an extended period of time.

"I'm telling you, when he finds out, he'll..." Rick trailed off and held the chair for his wife when the maître d' stopped at a secluded table in a quaint little alcove.

"Well, by that time, we'll have found what we're looking for," she assured him. She graciously thanked the waiter who came by with glasses of water and menus.

"Don't say I didn't warn you if you suddenly find yourself looking up at a six foot two man in dark robes scowling at you while he decides whether to let you live or die," Rick quipped impatiently.

Evie sighed heavily and looked over the menu. "It's only a necklace, Rick. What harm can come from a necklace?"

Rick choked on the water he had just sipped. "Oh, I'm sure it couldn't be worse than a..._bracelet_!"

"Oh, really, darling," Evie scoffed. "This necklace is ancient and belonged to the High Priestess Neffara, but nowhere in any of my research have I come upon any curses."

"Well, for both our sakes, I hope that's true," Rick caved in, tossing his menu onto the table. "Let's hope...for Alex's sake as well."

"What do you mean...oh."

Evie frowned and broke off conversation until they had placed their dinner order. Mention of Alex only brought to the surface how much she missed her son. They had decided since the school year had begun that they would not pull him out of school to travel to Egypt on this expedition. Alex, of course, was sorely upset at having to stay behind.

"Nothing bad will happen to us, Rick," Evie stated emphatically after the waiter had departed.

"It better not, seeing as how your brother would be his guardian," Rick countered none too happily. "Jonathan can't take care of himself; I don't know why you insist he should take care of Alex."

"He loves his nephew," Evie cried. "Besides, we have no other family. We should give his guardianship to Izzy, perhaps?"

"Very funny. Mark my words, by the time we return, Jonathan will have corrupted Alex."

Evie laughed softly. "Maybe the other way around."

"Maybe," Rick agreed, his eyes twinkling softly. "So, tell me again what's so special about this necklace..."

"The origin of the necklace makes it priceless and an exceptional piece for the British Museum," Evie began. "The gold chain is fashioned as a lariat, or lasso, if you will. One end fits inside a small loop. At the end of the chain fitted through the loop, dangles a large, perfectly tear shaped stone."

Rick listened intently, transfixed by the excitement dancing in his wife's hazel eyes. She couldn't resist a challenge and he smiled inwardly while he thought perhaps that was why she married him. "It sounds...pretty in a girlie way, but it doesn't seem all that priceless."

Evie shrugged at his seemingly indifferent attitude. "You know as well as I that its history makes all the difference. The stone, which is rumored to be a highly polished, translucent-like gray agate, may not be rare or precious, but the fact that it was a possession of Neffara makes it important. That the legend says it was a gift from the goddess Isis, formed from one of her own tears, makes it priceless."

Rick released a sigh in mock exasperation. "It's your show, Princess. I'm just along for the ride."

Evie chuckled when he winked, assuring her he was only teasing. "Yes, and I suppose we should call it a night soon."

Rick nodded. "Soon. First let's eat, 'kay? I know you're anxious to get started, but I'm starving."

Covering her mouth to suppress an outright giggle, Evie nodded.

"I'll find us our transportation in the morning, we'll buy what supplies and food we need, and then we'll be on our way," he assured her.

"On our way to..." Evie trailed off as the waiter placed their food on the table. "Mmm...that smells heavenly. I'm starving."

* * *

Unbeknownst to the couple, an eavesdropper lurked on the other side of the decorative partition. A sly little fat man with an appetite for profit, Ackmed Zaghloul had fairly salivated when he read the names of those who had checked into his hotel that day.

The O'Connells were well known and highly respected as archeologists. Rumor had it that Evelyn O'Connell knew the history of Egypt better than some Egyptians. When he had seen their names on the register, he immediately wondered what their business was in Cairo and if it might somehow profit him. He listened closely as she told her husband what she knew.

At the mention of the Priestess Neffara, Ackmed's ears pricked up. His own niece, Najya, was a descendant of Neffara, and something about the necklace Evelyn O'Connell mentioned rang a bell with him. He stroked the graying beard on his chin while he searched his mind for the elusive tidbit of information. Perhaps it was something he had come across in Zariah and Farouk's possessions. He had gone through them briefly before putting them in storage, far from the reach of his spoiled niece.

Thinking of Najya, he grew angry. After her escape from the Khalifa of Dulkadir, the Khalifa's associates had contacted Ackmed. Repay the Khalifa twice the money he had paid for Najya, or pay the consequences. Ackmed was a coward at heart, a self loathing trait, but one he acknowledged to himself. He paid the money and vowed to take it out on his wayward niece at his first opportunity.

As Evelyn O'Connell spoke of their intention, Ackmed listened attentively. He came close to growling his frustration when the waiter arrived with their order, interrupting the woman before she revealed where she and her husband were heading. No matter; he would remove Zariah Zaghloul's possessions from storage and discover the secrets of the necklace. In the meantime, he knew one or two hungry orphan boys who would gladly follow the O'Connells and report their destination to him when it was reached.

...to be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Lariat of Power**

**Chapter Three**

Two days after breaking camp at Hamunaptra, Ardeth and his warriors drew up to the bustling community of the Seventh Tribe. Chores and exercises were forgotten while the residents clamored to greet their Chieftain and returning warriors. Even the smaller children, who had been busy playing ball games or tug-of-war, stopped what they were doing to pay homage to their leader.

Dismounting, the new arrivals excitedly welcomed fellow warriors, friends, and old acquaintances. While introductions were made, Elder Hamid al Mu'afa and his associate Elder Ghazi al Khashshab unexpectedly joined them.

"Chieftain, I believe you know my father and Elder al Khashshab," Rami spoke up as the men gathered in a small circle.

"_Aiwa,_" Ardeth acknowledged, clasping each man in turn by the forearm in the Medjai's traditional handshake. "It is good to see you both."

"Elders, if I may," Rami continued. "Honored Commander Jubran Masruq and his Honored Second, Hadad Thaqib from the Eighth Tribe. Also from their tribe, Warrior Qadir Omran."

"It is a pleasure," both Elders said in unison.

"And there is no need to introduce yourself or your brother," Hamid commented amusedly. "As always, I welcome my sons home with gladness in my heart." He gave a brief hug to both Rami and Marid.

"When can we expect a report to the Council?" Ghazi interrupted the family reunion. "I believe we have several matters that must be settled immediately."

Hamid's eyes immediately flew from Ghazi to Ardeth and then back again. Before Ardeth's departure to watch over the activities of Hamunaptra, the two had participated in several heated arguments over the Chieftain's choice of brides. Ardeth had yet to convince Ghazi that his choice of the "outsider" would be a better match for him than Ghazi's daughter, Sidrah. Neither were going to budge, and Hamid feared the conflict could cause insurrection amongst the Medjai nation. If the Elders did not respect the Chieftain's decision, Hamid feared the people might also turn against him if he went ahead with his plans to take Najya Zaghloul as his wife.

Ardeth forced his expression to remain blank, fighting the scowl that threatened to appear. Because Ghazi persisted with his rights to have his daughter wed to the Chieftain, the nine council members were divided. Four were in Ardeth's favor and four against. Only Hamid had not announced his decision.

Privately, the Head Elder had expressed his worry for anything but a unanimous decision. Civil unrest was a huge risk, but Hamid knew Ardeth truly believed in his heart that once the Medjai had time to know Najya, they would accept her as one of their own. With Ghazi's dissention, however, Hamid knew the decision would never be unanimous.

"We most assuredly have matters to discuss, Elder Khashshab; however, my men and I do require rest after our journey."

"So you do," Hamid agreed, placing a friendly hand to Ardeth's shoulder. "You should find your tent in readiness, _y__â ra'__îs_. My nieces have seen to its care," he explained. "As for our other guests, Rami and Marid will find suitable quarters for them during your stay."

"_Shukran_, Elder Mu'afa," Jubran said, bowing his head respectfully.

"Nonsense. Call me Hamid, Commander," the Elder insisted. "Rami...Marid..."

Both warriors nodded. "We shall see to it, _Abu_," Rami answered. "_Min faDlak, _follow me to the stables and we will first see to the horses."

"Let us go," Jubran ordered as he reached for the reins of Ardeth's horse. "I will see to your horse, _y__â S__âHib_."

"_Shukran_, Jubran. Meet me at the Council assemblage in two hours," Ardeth said. "If you should need me, or something important should arise, you will find me in my tent."

"_Aiwa, y__â ra'is,_" Jubran acknowledged.

Ardeth turned to the two Elders. "If you will excuse me..." He bowed respectfully and then left the group to retire to his tent.

Stepping out of the stables and back into the bright sunlight, Qadir raised a hand to shield his wolf-gray eyes from the glare. His adoptive father frequently teased him that his light eyes with their flecks of olive green were especially attractive to the maidens of his tribe. Qadir often wondered where these maidens were hiding, because he had yet to meet one.

"I must say," he said, observing the activity of the vast village. "Your tribe is much more active at this time of the day than the Eighth Tribe."

"It does appear so," Hadad agreed. "Perhaps it has to do with the Oasis this village resides near. We are not so fortunate."

Rami and Marid had exited the stables just behind Hadad and Qadir. Jubran soon followed after making sure the horses were in capable hands.

"There is much more natural shade here," Jubran observed, joining in the conversation with his tribe mates.

"We are most fortunate," Rami commented. "The palms offer much shade."

"And the pool is magnificent for cooling off after a strenuous sparring match," Marid added.

"_Aiwa_," Rami agreed. He couldn't stop the smirk that appeared on his face. "It is also good for bathing naked and frightening all the young girls in the village."

"_L__â!_" Marid shouted much louder than he had intended. "Do not speak of that, Rami, or by all that is holy..."

Rami threw his head back in laughter. "Is there a problem, yâ _ukh_?" he asked when his laughter abated.

"You must tell us," Qadir goaded. A devilish grin appeared on his handsome face.

"Qadir," Hadad reproached. "We are guests here and..."

Jubran just shook his head as the other four taunted each other. The months they had spent together at Hamunaptra had molded their friendship into a brotherhood of sorts. It was good to see the jovial camaraderie for a change; their lives were filled with serious matters far too often for it to happen frequently.

"Perhaps we should discuss the time you got lost while leading..." Marid began, but was suddenly stopped when a papyrus hockey ball whizzed past him.

Laughter ensued when Rami was not quite so lucky and tripped over the nearby horse trough while evading the ball. Water sloshed over the sides from his added weight when he landed full force on his backside.

"_SamaH ana_, _y__â s__îdi_," a young boy of nearly seven called out as he ran over to the trough. He picked up the ball that lay nearby and bowed to the warrior who struggled to free his large body from the small confines.

The young boy looked up at the imposing, dripping wet warrior and was held fast by the stern look on his face. Rami stood to a tall six foot two inches, but in the boy's mind he was over ten feet tall. His dark brown eyes held such a hard look, the boy thought for sure he was about to be punished severely for soaking the warrior's robes. The neatly trimmed mustache and beard that lined his jaw and chin only emphasized the rigid line of his mouth.

Rami reached out and nearly laughed when the boy visibly jumped. He tousled the boy's hair and smiled down at him. Contrary to what others thought, he had not completely lost his sense of humor as he grew older.

"There is nothing to forgive," Rami finally spoke, alleviating the boy's fears. "Now, go...rejoin your friends. They are anxious to resume the game."

After the boy's departure, Marid clapped his brother on the back, causing water to spray in all directions. "There was a time, _ukh_, when you were much lighter on your feet."

A harsh look greeted Marid. "I will remind you of that during our next sparring match."

Ardeth's tent was located slightly away from those of the other members of the tribe and only done so to give him a bit more privacy. This tent was much like the other tents that were erected for him at each of the other tribes. The only one that was different and more personal was his tent at the First Tribe, the tribe in which he was raised.

He hadn't been inside long before he heard a soft feminine voice call out to him. He pushed aside the breezy material that covered the tent opening to see two young women, and when they lowered their veils once inside, he noticed a resemblance between them. Dark or black hair was not uncommon among the Medjai, and both wore their long locks braided at the back of their heads, the length touching the small of their backs. Their robes hid their womanly curves from sight, but Ardeth had the feeling they were both graced with beauty there as well. Their noses and mouths were nearly identical, the slightly oval shape of their faces as well. The only unique quality he could find upon immediate study was their eyes. One had eyes so dark they reminded him of liquid ebony. The other had eyes as blue as a Lapis stone.

"We bring fresh water and fruit, _y__â ra'__îs_," the one with black eyes spoke.

"By request of our _'Amm_ Hamid," the blue eyed girl added.

"_Shukran_," he said, moving aside to bid them entrance. When the large pitcher of water and bowl of fruit were deposited on the small table just inside the entrance, the women turned to leave. "You are the nieces of Elder Hamid?"

"_Aiwa_," the dark eyed one answered. "_Ana ismee_ Nida." She bowed respectfully.

Ardeth inclined his head in acknowledgement and then turned to the girl with blue eyes. "And your name?"

"Sabira," she answered, smiling. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Chieftain. "_'Amm _speaks very highly of you."

Although he shook his head as though he did not warrant such praise, a warm smile formed on his lips. "_Shukran_ for your thoughtfulness."

"If you are in need of anything, do not hesitate to call upon us," Nida added and smiled at Ardeth. "_Ma'assalama_, Chieftain."

"_Ma'assalama.._.Nida, Sabira," Ardeth replied.

...to be continued

--

_Min faDlak_ – please (spoke to a male; making a request)

_S__âHib_ -- friend

_y__â__ ra'__îs_ -- my chief

_Aiwa_ – yes

_Abu_ -- father

_Shukran_ -- thank you

_Ma'assalama_ -- goodbye

_'Amm_ -- Uncle

_Marhaba_ -- hello

_y__â__ sîdi_ -- Sir

_yâ__ ukh_ -- my brother

_lâ_ -- no

_Ana ismee_ – my name is


	4. Chapter 4

**Lariat of Power**

**Chapter Four**

Refreshed after a quick nap, Ardeth retrieved a fresh tunic, breeches, and robes from the small wardrobe in his tent. His thoughts turned to the coming meeting with the Council Elders and he grimaced slightly as he donned his clothing.

He had every intention of reporting the details of the goings on at Hamunaptra, but he was in no mood to discuss his personal life with any of the Elders. All nine would be in attendance, he was sure. He truly understood their reluctance to give up the old ways and traditions. He was not asking them to forgo the practices and lifestyle the Medjai had sustained these untold generations. Far from it. He was merely asking for acceptance of the woman he loved.

What he could not understand was their adamant stance that she was an outsider. She was three quarters Egyptian, and although not raised in the conventional ways, she was Egyptian nonetheless. Her claim of being a descendent of Neffara traced her history back to the Pharaohs and Queens of Egypt just as the Medjai's history was. That alone should warrant her the acceptance she deserved.

Ghazi's resistance puzzled him. Perhaps it was all just a way for him to gain respect as the father of the Chieftain's wife. To Ardeth, it seemed farfetched, and yet, it was the one thing he came back to whenever he thought of the Elder and his reasons for being so stubborn when it came to Najya.

Recalling memories of his youth and talks with his father, Ardeth realized Ghazi had been an adequate warrior in his time, but had never managed to move up in the ranks of his tribe. It was possible that Ghazi looked upon that as a failure, but every Medjai warrior was taught upon coming of age that all warriors were valuable.

Even as his thoughts continued to dwell upon the reasoning behind Ghazi's insistence his daughter was the rightful woman to wed the Chieftain, Ardeth exited his tent and made his way toward the Council meeting. When the discussion inevitably turned to his choice of a wife, he needed to keep his temper under control. If the last meeting he attended was any indication, talks would heat up.

There was a time when each tribe had their own Council, but disagreements between the Councils' edicts gave Ardeth a cause to unify them into one Council. Nine members were chosen from the Twelve Tribes. When it was necessary to choose a replacement, a member was selected from one of the tribes not yet represented in the Council. Placing the Council within the Seventh Tribe had been an easy choice; it was a central point for all the tribes. It was the Council member's decision whether to move his household to the Seventh Tribe or travel from their tribe for the necessary meetings.

Ardeth saw Jubran standing just outside the Council building and nodded a silent greeting. Jubran responded in turn.

"The Elders are assembled and waiting, _ya ra'îs_," Jubran informed Ardeth. "It might also interest you to know that Elder Ghazi has transferred to the Seventh Tribe permanently and thusly, Sidrah is here in camp."

Ardeth bit back a groan. As of yet, he had seen very little of Ghazi's daughter since she was chosen by the Council to be his bride. He had nothing against the girl; she was a fine maiden with pleasant manners, although quite shy. "Then I will be sure to pay her a visit before I leave for the First Tribe," he commented in an even tone. Nothing about this situation was the girl's fault and he would not treat her with disrespect.

Jubran nodded and stepped behind Ardeth as they made their way inside the Council building. It was his hope that while they had been overseeing the expedition at Hamunaptra, the Elders had agreed to Ardeth's petition of marriage. He was sure Ardeth harbored the same expectation.

* * *

From her vantage point beneath the welcome shade of a tall palm tree, Sidrah watched the Chieftain and Commander Masruq enter the Council meeting. Shadows cast by the leaves of the palm tree hid the look of sadness that haunted the delicate features of her face.

As the hour passed, she gathered the sewing materials she had been working with and ventured closer to the building. It wasn't long before raised voices were heard, although muffled by the walls. She was sure her father was arguing his stance in regards to the Chieftain's marriage. Truth be told, she feared he would get his way and she would be anchored to a loveless marriage. But whatever the outcome, she was raised to be dutiful, and she would follow whatever decision was put before her.

Silently she prayed against a marriage to the Chieftain. She only knew the man in passing. She had spoken to him a total of five times in her young life. Her instincts assured her he was an honorable man, and yet...

Movement caught her eye and curiosity held her spectator as two riders approached the entrance to the tribe's village. The argument within the Council chamber was forgotten as she focused on the newcomers -- a man and a woman -- strangers both. She marveled at the female's courage to go without the traditional veil and hair-covering Egyptian women were forced to wear, although her long, hooded cloak hid almost as much as Sidrah's own Medjai robes. Thankfully, Medjai women were not required to cover their hair or faces. When the woman pushed back the hood of her cloak, the sapphire blue of the stranger's eyes amazed Sidrah.

* * *

With all the woman's apparent differences, she did, at least, allow the blonde man with her to speak on their behalf. Sidrah moved closer when two warriors stepped forward to answer the man. She recognized them immediately, having grown up admiring the brothers. One in particular.

"_Marhaba_," Rami greeted, extending his hand to the man when both riders had dismounted.

"It's a pleasure," Kyle returned, shaking the warrior's hand. "My name is Kyle Shearer and this is Najya Zaghloul," he introduced.

"Rami Mu'afa," Rami returned, inclining his head respectfully in Najya's direction. "My brother, Marid," he continued.

Marid shook Kyle's hand, and then he too gave Najya a slight bow. "The Chieftain will be greatly surprised by your arrival."

"Then we have not missed him?" Najya asked, happiness shining in the depth of her eyes.

"_Lâ_," Marid answered. "However, he is meeting with the Elders."

Najya nodded her understanding and offered a curt nod to him. She had expected a cold reception when it was known who she was, but she saw no animosity in Marid's hazel eyes. She was completely thrown when he smiled boyishly and held out a hand to her just as a sudden breeze swirled the long tendrils of his wavy brown hair about his face.

"Allow me to assist you from your horse, _yâ sitt_," he offered

Najya took his hand and climbed down from her horse with his assistance. "_Shukran_, Marid. I was not expecting any kindness, if I may be honest."

"We do not all feel you should not marry our Chieftain," Marid spoke softly. If many of his people heard him speaking such words to her, he might be ostracized. Although, such fears were easily set aside when he looked into her eyes; he had always prided himself on his judge of character, and was certain of the goodness he saw in their blue depths.

"It is good to know this, warrior," she answered, her smile matching the brightness of his. "Your support will be depended upon in the days to come."

"You may count upon it, _yâ sitt_. I can guarantee you the support of the Mu'afa family."

Rami then signaled to two small boys nearby who immediately ran to his side. "Take their horses to the stables. See that they are watered and fed."

"Right away, _yâ sîdi_," one of the boys answered respectfully.

Both Najya and Kyle noted the hub of activity around the large village. Many people stared openly at them, while most only spared them a glance and moved quickly on their way.

"If you will come with us," Rami started. "We will show you where you may wait until we can inform Ardeth of your arrival."

Extremely disappointed she would have to wait even to see Ardeth, Najya did her best not to show it. She took Kyle's arm and walked beside him while the brothers escorted them to a large tent. Inside the tent, two young women were busy preparing an evening meal.

"Nida, Sabira..." Marid began and then introduced his cousins to Kyle and Najya.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Najya said, finding her voice now that she didn't feel so many eyes upon her.

"And you both as well," Nida returned.

"If you will excuse us...we will wait for the Council to adjourn so that we may inform the Chieftain of your presence," Rami said as he moved toward the tent flap. "If you are in need of anything..."

"Actually," Kyle began, a boyish grin blooming on his face. "If someone wouldn't mind terribly showing me around the village..."

Marid nodded. "Of course. While Rami waits to speak to the Chieftain..." He trailed off while lifting a hand toward the tent's opening.

"Be good, Naj," Kyle whispered and then winked as he followed Marid from the tent.

Najya smiled a bit nervously after all three men departed and she was left standing alone with Nida and Sabira. Both were regarding her rather studiously at first, but soon they both began asking questions about living in the city amongst foreigners. They asked about the rumors they had heard about her and Ardeth and the strange things that happened at the Temple of Philae.

Najya answered all their questions honestly and within a short amount of time struck up a friendship with the two young ladies. It was a friendship that would prove to be a blessing to her in the coming hours.

...to be continued.

---

_yâ ra'îs_ -- my chief

_Shukran_ -- thank you

_Ma'assalama_ -- goodbye

_Marhaba_ -- hello

_yâ sîdi_ -- Sir

_lâ_ – no

_yâ sitt_ – my lady


	5. Chapter 5

**Lariat of Power**

**Chapter Five**

Rami busied himself grooming his horse in the stables while he waited for the Council session to end. He acknowledged Marid and Kyle when they passed by during Kyle's tour of the village. If he had been waiting outside the Council building, he might have seen his cousins walk by with their new companion, heading for the Chieftain's tent with a food tray and fresh water.

He couldn't abide standing around idle when there were other things that needed tending to and he was near enough to hear the Elders exit the building when their session was over. If Marid had not been busy playing tour guide, Rami might have challenged him to that sparring match. In all honesty, he was actually in need of a rest after their recent stint at Hamunaptra, but he was more than willing to wait for that luxury until he had given Ardeth the news of his visitors' arrival.

He didn't have to wait long. In a flourish of robes and raised voices, the doors to the Council building opened to Ghazi and several other elders. Rami caught just a few spat words as they hurried by. "Stubborn as a camel", "pigheaded", and "he will be the end of our way of life" were most prominent.

Rami shook his head in disbelief. The end of their way of life? Ghazi acted as though no other Medjai had ever wed outside of the Medjai tribes. His own cousins, Nida and Sabira, were daughters of a mixed marriage. Khalid Mu'afa had married Stephanie Traner, an English heiress he literally stumbled across in the desert en route to Cairo. Rami smiled remembering his aunt and uncle. They had been so completely in love, bloodlines held no barrier for them. His smile soon faded when the ache of their loss all those many years ago entered his heart.

A growl rumbled from deep within his chest when the memory of the night their village was invaded by the nomadic Berber tribe known as the Tuareg. He swiped at the lock of hair that fell across his cheek when he stooped down to put away the horse brush in a small cabinet in the tack room. The Medjai had long since been an enemy of the Tuareg. Duty and honor drove the Medjai. Not only did they honor the old ways and protect the secrets of the Pharaoh, but they protected Egypt's people as well. If it was in their power to do so, they would come to the defense of those less able to fight for themselves.

Squaring his shoulders as though fortifying himself against the dark night when he had lost two beloved family members, Rami strode purposefully toward the remaining Elders. He refused to bring those brutal and ugly memories completely to the surface. No one would or even could call Rami Mu'afa a squeamish man, his prowess in battle proved that he was a strong, confident warrior; however, the watching and reliving the deaths of cherished family members could not remotely compare to sights seen or things done in battle.

He finally managed to bury his dark thoughts when he spied Ardeth and Jubran exit the building followed closely by his father. All three shared a grim expression, and Rami knew it did not bode well for Ardeth and his determination to marry Najya with the Elders' blessing. It seemed to Rami that Najya's arrival at the village had come at a good time; Ardeth would be in need of the love of his woman. That is, if Rami was a good judge of people – and he was.

"_Yâ ra'is,_" Rami called out in greeting as he approached the men. "I have a message for you."

"_Aiwa_, Rami?" Ardeth answered. He forced his practiced blank mask in place, not wishing for any of his warriors to see the conflict within him. Little did he realize, Rami had recognized that conflict in less than a heartbeat.

"New arrivals in camp have requested an audience with the Chieftain," Rami began, deliberately hiding the identity of Ardeth's visitors. Word would spread soon enough, but Rami hoped there would be enough time before certain members of the tribe knew of her presence. Ardeth then would have some time to spend with her before all proverbial hell broke loose.

Ardeth found his eyes squeezing into small slits as his aggravation stewed to a boil. He was in no mood to receive visitors, most likely to petition the Medjai for help with one matter or another. His hand went reflexively to his face, the tip of one long finger rubbing the bridge of his nose to alleviate the pressure building behind his eyes. "They will have to continue to wait. I will see no one for the remainder of this day." His words sounded gruff, even to his ears, but he had not one ounce of charity left in him at the moment. It was not his wish to take his mood out on anyone, especially on someone seeking help, but he was mentally exhausted.

"_Lâ twâkhidna_, but I think you should see these people right away," Rami insisted.

"Do not presume to tell the Chieftain his business, my son," Hamid scolded tolerantly.

"_SamaH ana,_ _Abu_," Rami quickly apologized. "I meant no disrespect, Chieftain Bay."

Ardeth nodded briefly. "All is well, Rami. Now, if you will excuse me..."

"I will see to it that you are not disturbed," Jubran pledged confidently.

"_Shukran_," Ardeth called over his shoulder. He spied his tent in the distance and looked forward to some uninterrupted sleep.

Jubran and Hamid bid Ardeth a good night, while Rami watched the retreating form of his Chieftain in silence. He hated to be the one to have to break the news to Najya that Ardeth had retired for the evening and refused to be disturbed. He would have to make arrangements for her to spend the night in his cousins' tent. Her escort, Kyle, could sleep in the guest quarters, along with Commander Masruq.

While his father remained behind to speak further to Jubran, Rami made his way back to his father's tent where Najya waited with Nida and Sabira. He was just about to enter when he heard soft feminine laughter. When he drew his large frame inside, he found his cousins huddled together, talking conspiratorially. Najya was nowhere to be seen.

"I have known you two long enough to know you have been up to no good," Rami admonished fondly. "Tell me now before you get yourselves into trouble." Both young women straightened to their full height and their chins jutted out determinedly. It was nearly enough to make him smile, but he did not show it.

"We have done nothing," Nida insisted, but broke into a giggle when she looked over at her sister.

"Nothing," Sabira echoed between giggles.

"Then where is the lady Najya?" he asked with an edge of impatience. It could be dangerous if she roamed the village unescorted. It was difficult to determine how those who opposed her presence in the Chieftain's life might react. Although the Medjai were noble people, their brand of justice was often swift and without remorse. It was often called "desert justice" and was needed when protecting ancient secrets and curses, such as He Who Shall Not Be Named.

"She is where she wishes to be," Nida returned. Her mood sobered at the look of concern on her cousin's face. "There is nothing to fear."

"Let me be the judge of that, cousins," he said, taking a step closer to them. Both women took a step toward him as though in defiance, but lowered their gaze hesitantly at his dark look.

Sabira raised her eyes and smiled brightly. Her actions were unexpected and caught Rami unaware and he found himself returning her smile. "What have you done?"

He asked his question in time with Marid and Kyle's entrance.

"What has who done?" Kyle asked flippantly, somehow expecting it to have been Najya, but she was not among those that Rami was speaking to.

"Najya wanted to help with the evening chores," Sabira explained slyly. "She helped us deliver food and fresh water to the Chieftain's tent."

Shrugging her shoulders, Nida sat in a small nearby wooden chair. "Oddly enough, we...misplaced her."

Sabira stared at her older sister, completely awed that she could retain a straight face. "Yes...mis...placed...her," she echoed amidst her laughter as Kyle and Marid moved farther into the room.

It was Kyle who caught her when she nearly collapsed from her bout with laughter. "I'm sure Ardeth will be grateful to have found your misplaced...treasure." He grinned boyishly. "You two are not as docile as the other maidens we came across while Marid showed me around the joint." he observed.

" _'Amm_ usually blames our mother's influence," Nida quipped.

Kyle noted the sadness that fell over the room at the mention of the sisters' mother. It didn't take a genius to figure out that a tragedy had befallen this family. "Well, it's a lovely influence, if you ask me," he insisted, looking down into the blue depths of Sabira's eyes.

Nida smiled at her sister when she joined her. "If one of you will find _'Amm_, we can have dinner."

Marid reached down and cupped her chin in his large, but gentle, hand. "I will go. He will not be happy with what you two have been a part of, but I think, considering the circumstances, he will be lenient." With a tolerant smile, he turned and went in search of his father.

* * *

Exhausted, mentally more than physically, Ardeth entered his tent with the sole intention of disrobing so he could crawl between the clean sheets of his comfortable pallet, embracing the sleep he had been craving. The startled gasp he heard upon stepping inside spurred his warrior instincts into gear and he unsheathed his scimitar with practiced ease.

"After all this time, you would greet me by gutting me?" Najya asked in amusement after getting over her initial shock at seeing him.

Rarely had she seen him in his more decorated Chieftain robes. His plain warrior robes had sufficed on most occasions, but she had to admit the midnight blue material and the exquisitely detailed white embroidery did emphasis his swarthy appearance. If possible, he was more handsome than she remembered. She was glad he had not bothered with the ghutrah, most likely because he was within the walls of the village. It gave her the chance to see his shoulder length silky black hair accentuate the outline of his face, and her desire to throw herself into his arms and wrap those dark locks around her fingers was becoming difficult to ignore. And his eyes...his brown eyes, so dark now they appeared black, had the power to bring her to her knees...his willing slave.

"I was not expecting you," he stated, completely dumbfounded. He had planned to travel to Giza to see her before going home to the First Tribe, but, by _Allah_, this was a pleasant surprise.

She couldn't help the lopsided grin that appeared on her face while he sheathed his sword. The sheepish look on his face gave him an almost boyish appearance, endearing him even further into her heart. She moved toward him slowly; upon reaching him, her palm slid up his chest to cup the nape of his neck. "I believe a better greeting is in order, my love."

A slow, sensuous smile curved his full lips as he gazed into her fathomless sapphire colored eyes. His hands plunged greedily into the thick fall of her lustrous black hair, gripping it firmly in his grasp. His eyes closed reflexively as he dipped his head. He felt the pressure from her hand at his neck pulling him closer, just as he did the same to her. He heard her soft gasp of pleasure and longing when his lips touched hers. After having been separated for far too long, their desire flashed into an instant inferno overtaking them both with its intensity. What had begun as a sweet caress soon developed into demanding need. The kiss deepened, tongues meeting, challenging the other to take their fill of the other knowing the need was too great to possibly ever be sated.

The necessity for air became paramount and drew Ardeth away from the sweet taste of Najya's mouth. He trailed butterfly kisses along her jaw line to nuzzle the silky skin of her neck. "I have come to dislike these separations more each time we are apart," he admitted huskily.

"Mmm...I do not like them either," she agreed, tilting her head to give him better access to her throat.

Already she felt her knees going weak and the throbbing ache that began to coil at her center. She groaned audibly when his hand trailed down her spine, pressing her tighter to his lean, muscular body. She could not mistake the evidence of his desire when it pressed against her lower abdomen and she found herself cursing the hindrance of clothing.

As if reading her mind, Ardeth's nimble fingers had already begun the task of pushing the cloak from her shoulders and quickly moved to the buttons of her blouse. It was not long before he moved on to her slacks.

Between hot, fervent kisses, Najya asked, "You are not hungry?"

Ardeth paused a moment, his eyes flashing with erotic intent as his gaze raked over her face. Her eyes were glazed with passion, her lips swollen from his kisses, and the last thing on his mind was food. "On the contrary, my sweet priestess, I am famished."

By this time, Ardeth had freed her of all but her underclothes. She, on the other hand, had only managed his sash, robes, and weapons. He stood before her in his tunic, pants, and boots and she pressed her body sensually against his, taking pleasure in his moan when she ground herself against his throbbing manhood through his clothing. "Then...we must feed the beast."

"_Allah_, give me strength," he growled as he lifted her into his arms. "You may be the death of me yet."

Najya wound her arms about his neck and kissed him softly, her teeth pulling gently on his bottom lip before releasing it. "I thought I already had been..."

"So you were," he agreed, placing her gently on the soft pallet. "And yet, you were also the reason I was brought back..."

He removed the remainder of her clothing and then quickly divested himself of his own. His hungry gaze took in every inch of her luscious womanly curves before returning to her face only to discover she had been doing her own assessment of his body. Her sapphire eyes had darkened considerably, telling him she approved of what she saw. Her welcoming arms, enveloping him in her heated embrace, assured him of the love and pleasure they would share in hours that followed.

Najya moaned with need as Ardeth ran one hand up her leg, over her hip, reacquainting himself with her body. When he cupped a breast in his large hand, her body arched upward, pressing her into his palm. She was greedy for his touch, and just as insatiably, her hands explored the male planes, angles, and sinewy muscles of his spectacular physique.

With their joining came the forgetfulness of any problem that haunted their lives. There was only man and woman...two becoming one. White hot passion fueled their motions to an exquisite pace, bringing the two to a peak of incredible heights. And when neither could hold back, when it was beyond them to hold off the inevitable, they plummeted over the edge together, swimming in the blissful feelings that rocketed within and throughout their bodies. As they collapsed together, aware of only the presence of the other, they once again declared their love for one another, reveling in the rightness of their union.

...to be continued.

--

_yâ ra'îs_ -- my chief

_aiwa_ -- yes

_lâ twâkhidna_ -- excuse me.

_SamaH ana,_ _Abu_ -- forgive me, father

_'Amm_—uncle.

_Shukran_ -- thank you

_Allah_ - God.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"You look like a child who's been given their first toy," Rick teased when he witnessed Evie bounce animatedly in the camel's saddle for the umpteenth time. Several days of travel through the torrid desert would not lessen her excitement one iota. Instead, it grew with each step closer to Dendera and the Temple of Hathor.

She lifted a hand and pushed her long brown curls away from her face as she turned eager eyes onto her husband. "It's exciting! Can't you feel it?" she asked exuberantly. "We're close...and it's calling to me."

"Yeah, I can hear it... 'you're a sap, sap, sap'..." he mocked teasingly.

"Oh...do go on, Rick darling," she answered humorlessly. "There's nothing you can do or say to diminish the importance of..."

"A _necklace_," he groused and shifted in the uncomfortable saddle. "What women won't do for jewelry..."

Evie wrinkled her nose at his lack of enthusiasm. "You'll see. If legend is true..." She truly did not understand his worry. There were no curses attached to this remarkable piece of jewelry, only its archeological significance was of importance.

"We'll be in deep shi..."

"Language, Mister O'Connell," she scolded, her eyes dancing with mirth.

Rick sighed and swatted at an annoying fly. "Yes, Missus O'Connell. Mark my words...one day you'll discover some things are better left alone."

* * *

_Meanwhile, in Cairo.._.

"_Aiwa_, _yâ_ _sîdi_," the young boy acknowledged the gruff question of Ackmed Zaghloul. Gamil lightly fingered the end of his ghutrah. For a moment, the thought danced in his mind to place it over his mouth and nose to protect him from the vile breath of the man he had been ordered to report the whereabouts of the O'Connell's.

Even at twelve years of age, his bravery was not in question; however, the fat little man that stood only a head and shoulders above him, was paying a handsome sum for this information. He could not risk losing money his family needed, nor the jobs awaiting his father and uncles when taking the man to where the O'Connells headed.

"Jari respectfully sent me to report the whereabouts of the Americans. They will reach Dendera and the Temple of Hathor within two days."

"Very well," he answered, running a hand over his graying beard. His thoughts were now distracting him from the boy. Questions as to why the O'Connells would search Hathor's temple for the necklace tickled his dark mind even as he began making plans for his own travels to overtake them and claim the prized necklace. He lacked only one item to complete what was needed to make use of it. An item so important, without it, it would cost the O'Connells their very lives.

"Tell your father to begin preparations for travel to Giza...then, we will search out the O'Connells."

Bowing in feigned respect, Gamil gratefully left the presence of the portly hotel owner and hurried to deliver the news to his father.

* * *

Najya stretched languidly on the comfortable pallet. In the darkness of the tent, her groan sounded nearly like a cat's contented purr when Ardeth's strong arms encircled her, molding her snugly to his heated flesh.

"Did you sleep well, _yâ__mara_?" His whispered question drifted into her ear; his seductive voice made even more so laced by sleep.

"When you allowed it of me," she teased and squirmed slightly with renewed desire when he nuzzled the tender flesh of her neck. His warm breath sent torrents of heat through her entire body.

"I do not recall any complaints," he teased back. He found the sensitive area near her rib cage and tickled her playfully. His deep laughter filled the tent when she squealed and jumped from the pallet.

He had forgotten how good it felt to laugh. The months at Hamunaptra, watching over the excavation as well as the separation from Najya, had taken its toll on his weary soul. The Elders challenging his choice of bride had only zapped him further and he fought to retain hold of his sense of self. Najya's unexpected presence in his tent had been a much needed reminder of what he fought for.

With her, there was no need to maintain the controlled façade warranted by the leader of the Medjai nation. No. With her, he was merely Ardeth Bay – man, friend, lover. She knew his position in life as he knew hers. Both were powerful in their own right and each as individual as a cloud in the sky. When together, their love was immeasurable and soothed any hurt, righted any wrong...they were whole.

There had been a moment after they realized their fortune in surviving their brush with death when they had discussed the direction of their relationship. Both had wondered if their physical relationship should end after just that one encounter on the riverboat until their future could be settled and Najya was his wife. They discussed the subject at great length. To deny themselves the love, comfort, and sustenance their souls derived from each other was too difficult for even someone with their inner strength. Their need was beyond physical...it was eternal.

He would soon have to discuss where things stood with the Elders, but now was not the time. The last thing he wanted was to see the laughing smile disappear from her beautiful face.

Najya returned to him quickly, stretching her naked body alongside his when he lifted the sheet to welcome her. She mischievously slapped his sinewy chest. "You are what the English call...a brute," she accused with loving adoration.

He grunted in amusement. "I have heard my friend O'Connell called this many times by his wife."

Lifting up on one elbow, Najya now looked down into his handsome face and laid a gentle hand to his cheek. "When can I meet them?"

He had spoken of them often, and she looked forward to meeting them, perhaps more so than she had been looking forward to joining and getting to know his people.

For some reason, she always felt that the O'Connells in some way were like her parents. One curious and troublesome, the other steadfast and although would always fall into the same trouble as his or her partner, would manage to find a way out of any situation. Perhaps she saw a little of Ardeth and herself in that respect. After all, their history together was proof enough.

"They have been gone from Egypt for some time now," he commented. Smiling warmly, he drew her hand from his cheek and pressed a tender kiss to its center. His gaze met and held hers as his hands trailed down the smooth skin of her back as she laid half sprawled over his body. "I believe they will soon return. Evelyn's love of this country is too strong to keep them away much longer."

She nodded absently as she sat up and the soft light that filtered through the cracks of fabric at the tent's entrance drew her attention away. The new day had begun and with it she would now face his people and their reaction to her presence.

"Something troubles you, _yâ_ Najya?" he asked upon seeing the shadow of discontent pass over her lovely features.

"I should not be here," she whispered.

He sat up when she left the pallet, straightened her hair with her fingers, and then began dressing. She would not meet his gaze and he knew without asking that her often voiced worry of how the Medjai people would accept her had crept into her thoughts. Once outside the protective shield of this tent there would be no guarding her from their curious looks, or the feelings they would unwittingly transmit to her telepathically.

Najya's special abilities, whether telepathic or telekinetic, were ones she rarely displayed. She kept rein on any impulse to explore other's thoughts or minds, although feelings would occasionally seep through the wall she put up. Only under great duress or life threatening situations had she used her telekinetic abilities. He knew it took great strength to use such restraint, and it was something he admired in her.

"You belong with me," he stated emphatically.

Leaving the pallet, he stood before her, urging her into his arms. He cupped her chin with one hand and lifted her face to meet his gaze. "Or, perhaps, you no longer believe that?"

She gave a slight shake to her head, as much as his hold on her would allow. "I do not believe that," she protested, imploring him with her eyes to believe her. "But you have yet to speak of the Elders' decision. If you had good news, you would have shared it by now. That leads me to believe they do not accept me in your life and I do not wish to be the cause of unrest within the Medjai nation."

"You must not worry about such things," he insisted. He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead and loosened his hold on her so that she could finish dressing.

"How can I not?" she asked incredulously while pulling on her blouse and fastening the buttons. "What will happen if you go against Council wishes?"

Ardeth stepped into his breeches before meeting her worried gaze. "It is within my rights to do so."

"I know this, but your people will not be happy..." she trailed off while pulling her slacks up over her hips.

"Perhaps not; however, they respect me and I feel they will honor my wishes even if the Council does not."

The look in his eye told her he would brook no further argument on the subject as he went to the small dressing table and brushed his hair. She continued to remain silent while he pulled his tunic over his head. She turned her gaze away from him and quickly finished dressing and was shoving her feet into her boots when she looked up to catch him gazing intently at her. Without asking or even the faintest hint of his thoughts, she knew what he was rolling around in his mind.

Stomping her boot in place, she stood to face him. "Do not even think it," she chastised, surprised by the hint of anger behind it. Did he think so little of her loyalty to him and faith in him? "Whatever you decide, I will support you. I will never leave you." She sighed, pushing the heavy fall of her hair from her shoulders. Unaware she was doing it, she revealed her weariness of the situation as well as her inability to rectify it. "You know how I feel. I do not want to be the cause of any ill feelings between you and your people. One day...you will resent me for it, and I cannot live with that."

"Never will I resent you," he insisted, shoving his arms into his robes. He had hurt her; he realized this when she snapped at him. Although he had seen her in far harsher moments, it still amazed him at how fiercely he wanted to protect her, even from himself.

His robes momentarily forgotten, he swept her into his arms, taking from her the cloak she held in her hands and tossing it aside. He lowered his head, his mouth capturing hers in a demanding kiss, his hands roaming her back at a possessively slow pace. He felt her fingers curl around the edges of his robe's opening, holding tightly, giving back to him all that he bestowed on her within the kiss. It was beyond desire -- love, devotion, understanding...a promise that all would be made right as long as they had faith in each other.

Breathless, she broke away and gazed into the dark depths of his deep brown eyes. "Then never will I speak of it again," she assured. "I place my trust with you, my desert warrior. What is meant to be shall come to pass."

"_Aiwa_," he agreed. His genuine, heartfelt smile lit his face while he watched her as she tightened his sash and handed him his belt. After safely sheathing his scimitar, he accepted his bandoliers from her and placed them crisscrossed over his chest and back. Always his people had to be prepared to defend or attack at a moment's notice. He would not be a worthy Chieftain if he, too, was not prepared. "_Shukran_."

"You are most welcome." Returning his smile, she slid her arms into her cloak which he now held for her. "Thank you," she returned.

"Now, let us face those that cause such upset between us," he insisted.

She nodded and followed him from the tent, the harsh glare from the morning sun causing her to squint. Her thoughts turned inward and she threw a prayer to the winds in hopes Isis was listening. _Give me strength, my Lady. Strength to face whatever lies in wait._

--

_yâ_ _sîdi_ -- Sir

_yâ_ _mara_ -- my woman.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

On her way to collect water for the morning meal, Thana noticed, in the near distance, the flaps opening on the Chieftain's tent. Sinking into the shadows of a nearby palm tree, she watched with great fascination mixed with complete antipathy as the Chieftain exited the tent alongside a beautiful _mara_ unknown to Thana. She knew this must be the mysterious Najya. She was forever being spoken of within the various circles of the twelve tribes. Whoever she might be, Thana knew her not to be the _mara_ that should be stepping from his tent at such an intimate time of day. No, that privilege belonged to Sidrah, daughter of Ghazi and Thana.

She watched with baneful eyes as the two strode through the village as though without a care. Although their bodies never touched, Thana could feel the heat of their desire with each glance they graced upon the other. It sickened her to the point of becoming physically ill. If the need to report this to her husband had not been so great, she might not have fought off the urge.

She took a calming breath and straightened her shoulders. Her task forgotten, she went in search of her husband to report the Chieftain's treachery.

* * *

Ardeth escorted Najya to the tent of his friend and Elder, Hamid. They shared breakfast with Hamid, his sons and nieces, Kyle, Jubran, and Qadir. The tent was quite crowded, but the atmosphere was relaxed and enjoyable, with not one comment made about where Najya spent the evening. Not that Ardeth had expected them to say anything; their respect for their Chieftain was unquestionable, their growing friendship undeniable.

Ardeth was pleased with the way Najya was treated by those who now surrounded him. She seemed to get along quite well with Hamid's nieces, and they held genuine admiration in their eyes when they looked upon the woman he was determined to marry. Nothing could please him more.

He turned from his musings when the sweet lilt of feminine laughter reached his ears. He looked over to see that a normally composed Kyle had lost a spoonful of porridge down the front of his shirt. The women in the tent were getting a good chuckle out of it. Sabira's laughter, he noted, sobered the instant she reached out with a cloth to clean the food from his shirt and Kyle's hand gently encircled her wrist.

To Ardeth it appeared Kyle and Sabira's gaze locked as though searching the depths of each other's souls. In a time span that lasted mere seconds before Kyle slipped the cloth from Sabira's fingers to clean the mess himself, Ardeth saw in that look all that he felt for Najya. He smiled inwardly knowing if Kyle was allowed to pursue a relationship with Sabira, their budding feelings tended and cultivated, theirs would be a timeless love that would survive the harshest protests of anyone in the Medjai nation. With Kyle being an 'outsider', the protests would be plenty.

He shifted his gaze over each of those in the tent before resting his eyes on the serene face of his intended. Mixed marriages were not unheard of, they were just difficult to arrange. If the couple loved enough, fought enough, once granted, their union was never protested again. The outsider was no longer considered as such; they became Medjai. This was his hope for Najya and himself.

He shifted his gaze back to the sisters. Sabira and Nida were fruit of one such joining. Khalid Mu'afa had rescued the petite and outspoken Stephanie Traner from the hands of a small Taureg raiding party. After spending a week together in the desert, surviving on Khalid's wit, the two had fallen in love, even though Khalid admitted freely she was too untamed for the lifestyle of a Medjai.

Ardeth remembered the two month long trial Khalid and Stephanie were made to suffer before they were allowed to wed. They were separated, forbidden to look upon the other lest the trial end and Stephanie was banished from the Twelve Tribes.

During that time, Stephanie was taught those skills needed to live with the Medjai. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, and the etiquette that dictated the Medjai society were not easily undertaken by a spoiled rich girl. Stephanie did all she was asked with little protest. Remaining with Khalid was more important than her pride at that time.

Khalid was made to endure much more stressful tests. Food and water was withheld from him for days at a time. He was forced into solitude. His days were spent without the benefit of one word spoken to him. Those in the village were instructed to shun him in all ways. For two months, Khalid rode, ate, walked, and hunted alone. And after those two months, he demanded to be joined with Stephanie Traner for the remainder of their lives.

Ardeth would endure that and more if it meant being with the woman he loved. There was no question of it. He had discussed the possibility of this trial with Najya and she felt the same.

A slap on the shoulder broke Ardeth from his thoughts. He turned his head slightly and found Hamid standing behind him.

"I suggest a walk to the oasis pool. The breeze over the water makes it much cooler, and the shade is most welcome when the sun becomes too hot to bear."

Ardeth agreed readily. While Nida and Sabira stayed behind to clear away the remnants of the morning meal, the others exited the tent.

Once outside, Najya pulled Ardeth aside. Allowing the others to go ahead, they lagged behind several steps to speak in relative privacy.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked curiously. He could see by the look on her face that something weighed heavily on her mind.

"No. That is, not especially," she assured, smiling slightly. "There is something I need to discuss with you...one of the reasons why I made the journey to see you."

Ardeth raised a brow apprehensively. "You did not journey to be with me?"

A soft laugh escaped Najya as the furrow on his brow deepened. "Of course, I did, but not just to be with you. I have made a discovery which I would like to explore, but did not wish to leave Giza without explaining it to you."

"I see," he acknowledged. He stopped short of the group that stood waiting for Ardeth and Najya to join them. "We shall discuss this...exploration...after we spend time with..." he trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Our friends..." she finished for him. Her smile was wide and genuine as she reached up and briefly touched a palm to his cheek.

"_Aiwa_," he agreed. "Our friends." He placed a gentle hand to the small of her back and guided her forward.

"What are your plans, Ardeth?" Hamid asked once the group had situated themselves under the shaded palms.

"It is my intention to travel to my village. It has been many months since I have seen my mother," he informed them. "With Najya's arrival, it is the perfect opportunity for the two of them to become reacquainted." He turned his attention to Kyle. "You are welcome to join us, Kyle."

"Uh..." Kyle stammered and looked over at Najya. The brief shake of her head indicated to him that she had yet to discuss her plans with Ardeth. For the moment, he would play along. "It would be my pleasure."

"You will need a contingent of warriors to escort you, _yâ ra'îs,_" Jubran interrupted. As Commander of the Eight Tribe, he could not allow the Chieftain to travel without protection.

"I am capable of traveling without...a mother hen, _yâ ukh,_" Ardeth assured, mirth dancing in the dark depths of his eyes.

Hadad and Qadir turned their heads to hide the look of amusement each wore. Their commander would be less than pleased with them if he were to catch them. One look over at Rami and Marid and they discovered they were not alone. All four warriors fought to hold back their laughter.

Najya chewed her bottom lip when she saw the anger rise in Jubran's eyes. It was obvious he did not take the protection of the Chieftain lightly, and he did not appreciate anyone's taunts, not even the Chieftain's.

"Before you unsheathe your anger...or perhaps your scimitar on me, Jubran," Ardeth quickly interceded. "Allow me to apologize."

Jubran blew out a hot breath as he stared at his friend and leader. "Very well. I will accept your apology, if you admit, as Chieftain..."

"We will discuss this at a later time," Ardeth interrupted in a commanding tone.

"Of course, _yâ ra'îs_," Jubran responded contritely.

It had not been his intention to be so short with his friend, but he had seen a warrior exit the tent of Elder Ghazi al Khashshab. It was apparent the warrior was heading in the direction of the small Oasis' pond. It wasn't that Ardeth worried about the warrior overhearing the conversation. No, that wasn't it at all. What troubled Ardeth was the eruption of uneasiness that assaulted his entire being. Suddenly, the air around him was filled with dread.

If Ardeth was experiencing uneasiness, Badr was swimming in it. A recent addition to the warrior sect of the Seventh Tribe, Badr was in complete awe of the legend that was Ardeth Bay. His harrowing and heroic experiences were renowned, and here Badr was, a lowly warrior, about to order Ardeth Bay to appear before the council.

Sweat broke out on Badr's upper lip and he ran his clammy hand over the front of his robes as if to smooth out the material. He stepped up to the group and cleared his throat, but no words would come forth.

Ardeth's eyes met Jubran's for a moment before standing up to meet the young warrior face to face. "Speak," he ordered gruffly.

"_SamaH...SamaH ana,_" he answered, finally finding his voice. "It is my duty, Chieftain Bay, to order you before the Council of Elders."

"No meeting has been scheduled this day," Hamid argued, clearly irritated. If a meeting had been called, it was without the knowledge of the Head Elder.

"Elder Khashshab has called the Council meeting," Badr informed Hamid.

"Pray tell what this meeting is in regards," Hamid growled, losing composure. Ghazi knew full well any request for a meeting was to go through Hamid first. The only exception was if he was unavailable.

"I cannot say that which I do not know," Badr admitted. "Whether it was my fortune or fate to be walking by the Elder at the time, I was pulled aside and ordered to deliver the message."

Ardeth's steely gaze held the young warrior's steadily. His instincts had been correct. Ghazi was behind this meeting. "Your name, _bero_," Ardeth demanded purposefully. That the young man did not melt under his gaze impressed Ardeth. If this was an indication of the man's personality, he would prove his worth to the Medjai as a warrior. That is, if Ardeth was any judge of character, which he was.

"Badr bin Laith al-Simidi, Chieftain Bay." Badr held Ardeth's gaze, fighting the urge to look away. He did not wish to appear weak in front of the Chieftain, Commander, or the other seasoned warriors that were now beginning to stand. It was most certain that he would not show weakness in front of the strange blonde man or the Chieftain's _mara_; any _mara_ for that matter.

"_Shukran, bero._" Ardeth extended his hand and clasped forearms with Badr in the traditional warrior handshake. The look of surprise on the young warrior's face was unmistakable, if not short lived. As with most of the male population, Badr was learning to mask his emotions. It would serve him well in battle.

Badr nodded and stepped aside for the group to pass. He stayed behind and watched as they made their way to the Council chambers. He half expected them to disburse and the Chieftain to enter alone, but that was not to be the case. The entire group filed in behind him. There was not a member in the Medjai nation who would not know what this meeting was about. Silently, Badr wished Ardeth well.

* * *

"It is an outrage," Ghazi's voice boomed after Ardeth refused to respond to the allegations that he had shared his pallet with the _outsider_.

Ardeth calmly looked from the hysterical Ghazi to the unemotional face of Head Elder Hamid. "Why am I being called before Council to discuss my sleeping arrangements?"

"To be perfectly honest, Chieftain Bay, I must ask the same question of Elder Khashshab," Hamid answered without feeling. "Share the reason, Ghazi."

Ghazi gasped at the informality Hamid showed within the circle of the Council. It was unheard of. "We will speak of your breech of propriety, Elder Mu'afa, at a later time. I was informed this morning that a woman was seen leaving your tent, Chieftain Bay. You must understand what an insult this is to not only the woman you are promised to marry, but to her family as well." His gaze drifted over the observers in the tent. "That you chose to bring an audience to these proceedings only further shows your disrespect to the situation."

The venomous undertones in Ghazi's voice were clearly detectable by everyone in the room. Ardeth took a step closer to the panel, his shoulders square and his head held high. "Do not mistake my lack of knowledge in regards to the context of this meeting as disrespect to this Council or to Sidrah bint Ghazi al Khashshab. I do, however, question the intentions of her father." He let Ghazi digest the insult for a moment before continuing. "If I had any prior knowledge as to what you wished to discuss, I would have spared my friends the...displeasure. The fact remains that we are here and will settle this matter once and for all."

"How do you wish to settle this?" Hamid asked curiously.

"Bring before the council the _mara_ whose honor I have supposedly impugned. I would know for myself if this _mara_ would hold the Chieftain to a loveless marriage," he demanded harshly. "The time has come to end this. You have heard my wish to marry Najya. She now stands before this Council. She willingly pledges herself to the Medjai. I have spoken openly of my love for her; yet, you insist this is insufficient for you to break the marriage contract _you_ have put in place with Sidrah." He could feel his anger building and fought hard to clamp down on it. "I was not a party to this agreement. The Council decided for themselves the Chieftain had gone too long without a _mara_ to bear him children."

"It was to ensure your successor, Ardeth," Hamid protested. He had taken part in the decision for draw up the contract, and although he regretted it now, he had thought it was a wise decision at the time. "Do we even need to speak of the life expectancy of a Medjai Warrior? It is selfish of you deny the Medjai Nation an heir."

Ardeth nodded his understanding. "I cannot argue that point, but there is no need to go on with an arranged marriage."

"I am in agreement with that," Hamid stated. "Understand, unless both parties agree, we must go forward."

"_Lâ!_"

"It is our way, Chieftain Bay," Ghazi insisted. His looked to the other eight Council members before continuing. "Not even the Chieftain is above Medjai law."

"It is not difficult to see why you argue, Ghazi," Ardeth stated. "You are too close to the problem. Your voice should not be heard."

Najya stood at the back of the room with the others, Kyle stood beside her as if in silent support. Her admiration for Ardeth grew with each moment. How he maintained any semblance of composure during this, she could not understand. If she were the one speaking, she was afraid her anger would have gotten the better of her and would unleash her power on Ghazi, sending him sailing through the tent's fabric. She was so unnerved over the situation that any of her training, meditation, or faith in the Goddess was lost in the threat of losing Ardeth.

Ghazi opened his mouth to tell the Chieftain just what he thought of him, but never had the chance. The same warrior he had sent to tell Ardeth he was expected before the Council was now bursting into Council Chambers.

Badr stopped short, his breath coming in sharp bursts. He handed Ardeth a message even while his eyes reflected his sorrow for being the one who delivered it.

No different than anyone else in the room, Najya's attention was taken from the meeting to the young warrior. She sensed the deep feeling of heartache in him, and as Ardeth read the message, she felt the same lurching anguish sweep over him. It came with such strength she found it difficult to keep her balance. Reflexively, she reached for the trusted friend who stood beside her and was never so grateful for Kyle's presence when his hand curled supportively around hers.

His eyes filled with despair, Ardeth turned to those who stood behind him in support of his situation. The news he was about to deliver made his problem pale in significance. At times like this he hated his title, his place in the Medjai society. Although he took in the sight of the entire group, his focus centered on his close friend, Jubran, and Jubran's two best warriors as he spoke, "Jubran...Hadad...Qadir...I have no easy way to tell you..."

Jubran visibly stiffened. He felt Hadad, who stood beside him, do the same. Ardeth's eyes reflected his heart and Jubran knew without hearing the message that their lives would never be the same. "Just say it," he whispered hoarsely.

Ardeth nodded his understanding. "Saeedah, along with several Medjai maidens and three warriors from the Eighth Tribe, were killed this morning when a band of marauders struck the caravan they were trading with."

* * *

All activity stopped within the Seventh Tribe's village when three heart wrenching, tortured howls ripped through the air, ending the peace and tranquility of the day.

…to be continued.

--

_mara_ – woman.

_yâ_ _ra'îs_ - my chief.

_yâ_ _ukh_ – my brother

_Shukran_ – thank you

_SamaH_ _ana_ – forgive me

_bero_ – warrior


	8. Chapter 8

**Lariat of Power**

**Chapter Eight**

Without a word and heads bowed, three solemn warriors left the Council chambers. After having such devastating news delivered, no one had the heart to carry on with the meeting. Hamid dismissed the Council, requesting it to reconvene after the attack against the caravan had been investigated. No protests were made to this request, not even from Ghazi. Duty to the tribes came first, and Ardeth was now focused on the recent murders.

All occupants of the tent filed out behind Jubran, Hadad, and Qadir. As the crowd disbursed, Ardeth stood behind Najya and Kyle; each of them watching in silence as the three warriors walked off alone. Neither Najya nor Kyle understood the ramifications of the message, but it was obvious Saeedah was someone very close to the three men.

"This is...unconscionable," Najya said, turning to face Ardeth when she felt the comforting weight of his hand on her shoulder. The grief of those within the tent had been immeasurable and it had taken all her strength to keep their emotions from crushing her. At times like this she despised her _gifts_, but at the moment, she wished for nothing more than to be held by Ardeth and allow his warmth to soothe her troubled soul.

Looking into his sorrow filled brown eyes, she could read that he wished it as well, but it was unacceptable to display affection in public. There might come a time when it was not such an issue, but with her status within the tribes, that time had far from arrived. Instead, she took comfort in what contact they could share.

"It is," he agreed, his eyes searching hers and seeing his feelings mirrored within the beautiful sapphire of her eyes. It bolstered his spirit having her near at a time like this. "There is much to be done, _yâ maHabbi._"

"If you'll excuse me," Kyle began, clearing his throat. "I'll just leave you two alone to talk."

Ardeth gave him a nod of thanks. "Perhaps you could go by Hamid's tent? The _bnât_ knew Saeedah quite well. They will be in need of comfort and strength..."

Kyle stared at Ardeth for a moment. Did he know? Could he? Kyle was unsure himself, and yet, from the moment he had looked into Sabira's unusual blue eyes, he had not been able to stop thinking about her. "I will do what I can."

"_Shukran._"

"Who is...was Saeedah, Ardeth?" Najya asked after Kyle left and they began walking through the village with no discernable destination in mind.

Ardeth sighed and dropped his hand from her shoulder. His soul immediately cried out at the lack of contact. "Saeedah was Hadad's older sister...and Jubran's wife. Subsequently, because he is as a brother to Hadad and Jubran, Saeedah was as close to Qadir as a sister."

Najya bowed her head in reverence. "Oh Ardeth...I am very sorry for their loss." There were never the right words in situations such as this.

"I know you are, _maHbûb_." He tenderly touched his hand to the small of her back, stopping their progress for a moment while a group of children ran past. When they had gone, his hand dropped and they resumed their walk. Soon he would leave her to investigate the murders and show his support for the Eighth Tribe during this difficult time. The thought of parting from her saddened him, for it had been his hope that from this day forward Najya would be part of his daily life. "Your support is most welcome, but for now, Jubran, Hadad, and Qadir must grieve alone. Upon their return, we must travel to the Eighth Tribe."

_We must travel._ The words echoed in her mind. Would he require her to go along? How would he react to what she had yet to tell him? She turned her head to look at his handsome profile as they walked. It would be difficult to refuse him. Was her need for her mother's journals more important than his wishes? She longed to learn more about her mother and their shared connection to the Goddess Isis, but deep down she knew that if Ardeth wished her to delay her search, she would do as he asked.

The morning hour grew late and with it the sun's rays intensified. Ardeth reached behind Najya and drew the hood of her cloak up to protect her head. He returned her grateful smile, realizing both of theirs were tinged with the sadness of the day. Reaching into the folds of his robes, he removed his ghutrah from its hiding place. With expertise, he positioned it on his head and wound it into place, allowing the length of the face covering to drape loosely about his neck.

As they walked, Najya observed the people milling about. Their reaction to her was much the same as the previous day. She was greeted with curious stares or blatant hostility. Although she felt it was unfair to judge her for not being born Medjai, she could understand their position. Determined she would face them proudly, she answered their stares, whether friendly or otherwise, with a warm smile, showing none of the inner fears she harbored.

Ardeth halted their progress when they came to the stables. In the corral, several warriors worked with their horses. They used loud cries and startling noises, waving sticks and cloths close to the horses' eyes in an attempt to get them used to anything that might panic them during battle. No warrior could afford to be left at a disadvantage due to an easily spooked animal.

After several silent moments of watching the exercises, Ardeth guided Najya inside the stable. Upon entering, they were welcomed by several young men who worked the stables. Ardeth quickly introduced Najya and after pleasantries were exchanged, he ordered them to ready the horses for travel to the Eighth Tribe that afternoon.

Nodding their understanding, the men scurried away to do his bidding. The horses of the Chieftain, the three warriors from the Eighth Tribe and the newcomers would be ready when the time came.

Najya walked to the stall that sheltered her mare and gently stroked her muzzle. Ardeth had given her to Najya as a gift shortly after their return from Philae. She was black as midnight save the patch of white between her eyes that was peculiarly shaped like a star. Najya immediately fell in love with her and called her Midnight Star. "How are you, Star?" she asked quietly and received a contented nudge against her hand. "We will leave soon, my friend. Would you like to ride?" Najya chuckled when Star bobbed her head and issued an insistent whinny.

"It is good to see the connection between you and your animal," Ardeth commented, stepping up behind her. He drew in a sharp breath when she leaned back against him, resting the back of her head against his shoulder. The light scent of jasmine wafted into his nostrils and he breathed it in, closing his eyes while he enjoyed the sweet scent of her hair.

"Thank you again for giving her to me," she acknowledged gratefully.

"The pleasure was all mine," he assured her. Reflexively, his hands went to her hips and rested there. Mindful of the others present in the stables, he was reluctant to follow the call of his heart and pull her into his arms. It was more than physical contact or sexual desire. He could never fully explain this to anyone, least of all an unbending Council, but he felt nourished by Najya. She fed his soul and gave him strength he had never known before.

"Ardeth, what will happen now?"

"First we will go to the attack site," he began.

"That will be difficult for those closest to Saeedah," she asserted.

"_Aiwa_," he agreed. "They are warriors and conditioned to the harsh realities. They will endure and turn their grief inward until such a time it can be unleashed onto those who deserve it."

"Then, you will pursue the attackers?"

"That is the plan," he stated calmly. "We will gather what knowledge we can from the site, and by speaking to those at the Eighth Tribe who discovered the atrocity. We will then go on the hunt."

His voice was lifeless, unfeeling, and Najya gave an involuntary shudder despite the warmth of the climate and the heat radiating from the man behind her. He lived by the code; desert justice, swift and without regard. Protect the innocent, the secrets of the Pharaohs, the sands of Egypt, and above all else, his people. When the culprits were found, there would be no trial, no jury. Already they had been tried before the laws of the Medjai. There would be no jail to hold or harbor them. Their fate had been decided the moment the first of the Medjai they wronged had fallen. Death was their destiny and the man who stood so very near its instrument.

"What of me, my love? Would you take me with you?"

Ardeth backed away and turned her to face him. He could easily see she was unused to hearing him speak so callously, but he also knew she understood and accepted. "_Lâ_," he protested. "I would not have you party to such a deed." When it looked as though she might argue with him, he shook his head, cutting off her words. "I know you are capable of handling yourself in a fight..."

Najya raised a hand to stop him. "I do not wish to go with you." She raised the hood over her head. "Might we go back to the tent of Elder Mu'afa, please?"

Unsure as to why she changed the subject so abruptly, he then realized it was because activity in the stable had ceased and they had become the center of attention. "Very well," he answered. After he escorted her outside, he resumed their conversation. "You have something to say?"

"Yes. It is not that I do not wish to accompany you to the Eighth Tribe..."

"What is on your mind, Najya?" he asked as they began the trek to Hamid's tent.

"I wish to return to Cairo. I must see my uncle..." she trailed off when she noticed Ardeth's eyebrow arch in disbelief.

"Why would you wish to see the man who tormented you for so many years?" he questioned skeptically.

"I do not wish to see him, specifically, but I believe my mother left several other journals." She lightly placed a hand on Ardeth's arm when he stopped and turned to her. "I must find them."

He searched her face for a moment, reading her earnest expression. He could understand her need; the journals were all she had left. She had not received a visitation from her mother since their excursion at Philae and Najya was growing more forlorn about her loss as each day passed. "Zariah has not deserted you, _yâ maliki_. You will see her again."

A weary smile formed on Najya's lips. "There is no way to be sure, and all I have left of her is one journal that I stumbled upon. I know now there are more since finding the journal was numbered. I know Ackmed has them, and I must retrieve them."

He waved an arm resuming their walk. "Wait until I return and I will take you to your uncle."

"You have enough to worry about, Ardeth. Kyle can go with me." She sighed knowing he would not understand. "The honest truth? I have no desire to wait."

He stopped outside the tent. The flaps were open to allow any breeze from the Oasis to cool the interior and the sobs from inside were easily heard. He did not wish to take this conversation inside with them. He was not angry with Najya or her wish to leave for Cairo, but he did not want to burden his friends during their time of grief with his personal battles.

Instead, he stood gazing down into Najya's turbulent sapphire eyes and knew he must let her go her own way. He had known from the moment he had met her that she had her own mind, and it was one of the things about her he had fallen in love with. It was hypocritical of him to expect her to go against her nature for him. She would not expect that of him. "I will not stand in your way," he finally responded.

She nodded solemnly. She knew he was not happy with his decision, but it warmed her soul to know he respected her wishes enough not to fight her on this. "Thank you."

He ushered her inside the tent with one hand lightly touching the small of her back. "We will escort you and Kyle as far as we can before turning off to the Eighth Tribe."

Once inside the tent, they turned their attention to those within and the conversation that had just taken place was forgotten as the reality of loss was so evident around them. Hamid beckoned them to join him. Rami and Marid sat with Nida between them, each holding one of her hands, speaking soft words of comfort to her. Much to Najya's astonishment, Sabira was being held in the consoling arms of Kyle. When she turned questioning eyes onto Ardeth and Hamid, they merely nodded. It warmed her heart knowing that this family accepted her best friend so readily.

"Kyle?" Sabira question, lifting mournful eyes up to see his face. "You are leaving?"

Kyle looked at Najya and saw her brief nod. She had finally spoken to Ardeth about her journey to Cairo. "It appears so."

"Will you return?"

"As soon as I possibly can," he assured as he brushed an errant lock of hair from her cheek.

Najya smiled at Sabira, who was so obviously enchanted by Kyle. It would not be easy for them, but she knew Kyle and he was a strong, determined man. He would do anything and everything he had to do to win Sabira's hand.

Before anything further could be discussed, the sound of someone quietly clearing their throat was heard from the entrance and all eyes turned in that direction.

"I...do not wish to intrude," Sidrah's soft voice floated into the room. She nervously shifted her feet while she waited for someone to acknowledge her. Seeing the Chieftain alongside the woman he loved started a panic to rise inside her. She had seen him on few occasions and he still made her edgy.

"Come in, child," Hamid urged.

"_Shukran_, Honored Elder," she responded, moving into the room. "I wished to offer my condolences," she explained. She and the sisters were friends, and she was aware of their relationship with Saeedah.

"That is very kind of you, child," Hamid acknowledged. "You know my family and the Chieftain, but allow me to introduce you to Kyle Shearer." Hamid paused while Kyle released his hold on Sabira to stand and greet Sidrah. "And this is Najya Zaghloul."

Najya reached for the girl's hand and held it steadily as their eyes met. Something flashed within Sidrah's, but anything she was feeling was elusive to Najya and she held back the impulse to dig into the girl's mind.

"Najya, this is Sidrah Khashshab."

The significance of her name was not lost on Najya. The young woman was the one the Council had decided Ardeth should marry.

Silence echoed within the walls of the tent as the two women sized each other up.

--

_yâ maHabbi_ -- my love

_bnât_ -- girls

_Shukran_ – thank you.

_maHbûb – _dear

_Aiwa_ -- yes

_Lâ_ -- no

_yâ maliki_ -- my queen


	9. Chapter 9

**Lariat of Power**

**Chapter Nine**

Najya assessed the other woman quickly. Sidrah's deep inky black hair was pulled back into a long, thick braid. Her slightly curved nose perfectly set apart her light brown eyes and the delicate roundness of her cheeks only accentuated the beauty of her oval shaped face. Her lips were pressed into a serious line, pulling at the tiny dimple in her chin. Sidrah was just slightly shorter than Najya, who estimated the woman to be at a height of five foot six inches.

When Najya spied Sidrah's fingers toying with the edges of her robes, she realized Sidrah was nervous. Silently, she wondered what Sidrah had to be nervous about. Her future was set. At this point, she was destined to be the wife of the Chieftain unless Ardeth could persuade the Council otherwise.

While Najya took measure of Sidrah, Sidrah was doing the same. Taller, slimmer by just a few pounds, Sidrah was still amazed at the sapphire blue of the Egyptian woman's eyes. Like her friend Sabira, it was a telltale sign that European or American blood flowed through her veins. Her eyes and dark hair emphasized the light caramel of her skin, another trait of her mixed blood. But even that knowledge could not detract from the beauty of the woman's features. Like Sidrah, Najya's face was slightly oval and her lips were also set in a determined line.

Sidrah extended her hand at the same time as Najya. They clasped hands briefly and exchanged polite greetings.

As much as she was curious about the woman who rivaled for the position of the Chieftain's wife, Sidrah could not keep her gaze from drifting to the other side of the tent where Rami and Marid sat with a desolate Nida. She noted momentarily that Kyle had returned to Sabira's side. Preoccupied with the full force of the yearning and renewed sadness that stabbed her heart, she barely registered that Sabira clung to the man in her grief. Although touched by the loss of Saeedah, Sidrah's sadness was selfishly reserved for her own situation and a love that would never be.

As if sensing her thoughts, both Rami and Marid fixed their gazes on her. Humility necessitated she look away, but her heart demanded she take what time she had to look upon the one her heart ached for. Deep in the midst of his hazel eyes, she saw the pain that was kept hidden within his own heart.

Clearing his throat, Marid stood and took a few steps closer to Sidrah. "_SamaH ana_, for this may not be the time or the place, but it is something that must be settled."

Confusion settled among the occupants of the tent, for all except Sidrah, who knew full well the meaning of the young warrior's statement. Shaking her head in a useless plea, she whispered, "_Lâ_."

Surprised by the sudden influx of jealousy and animosity she felt from someone within the tent, Najya looked from Marid and Sidrah to Ardeth. He was watching the scene as intently as Marid and Sidrah looked at one another. Something was amiss.

"Why do you not end this sham, Sidrah?" Marid demanded. He was overstepping his place, but he had come to the end of his patience.

"I cannot," she answered simply.

Unshed tears shone in the woman's eyes and despite the fact that this was the person who stood between her and Ardeth's happiness, Najya could not help but feel sympathy for her. The sadness within her rival was all-consuming, something to which Najya could easily relate. It was as she felt when Ardeth had taken his dying breath at Philae. No one should be saddled with that grief for the remainder of their life, and she had the feeling that Sidrah was destined to that fate if she entered into this marriage with Ardeth. _Why does she not end this?_

"Your answer is not acceptable," Marid chastised.

It was clear Marid's anger was growing and Ardeth did not wish for such a display during this time of grief. "Marid, you must stop..."

"_Lâ,_" Marid barked, his eyes never wavering from Sidrah's. "Do you not wish to know the answer, _y__â__ ra'__î__s_?"

"This is not the time, _y__â sâHib_," Ardeth answered fiercely. Unsure when Jubran, Hadad, and Qadir would return, he did not wish for them to be a party to this argument. There was enough to deal with – the deaths of their loved ones and the tracking of their murderers. At the moment, his impending marriage was the least of his worries.

"When will it be time?" Marid questioned resolutely. His words were more for Sidrah than Ardeth. "You would willingly destroy the lives of four people to perpetuate your father's quest for power?"

Sidrah's gaze remained steadfast although her desire was to turn and flee. Marid was borderline insubordinate. Did this mean so much to him that he would risk his status for an answer? "Our Chieftain is correct. Although this is not the time, _bero_, I will answer you. You are wrong about my father. This has nothing to do with power. This marriage is of great magnitude to my family. My future is of utmost importance to them. To break the contract would be to dishonor their wishes. This I cannot do."

Marid's jaw dropped as if in disbelief or perhaps just to voice his outrage. Her future was not the reason behind Ghazi's determination; he was sure of that. Whatever his thoughts, he was not given a chance to voice them.

Nodding curtly as she turned toward Ardeth and Najya, Sidrah said, "I will take my leave now. It was not my intent to cast a shadow on this already solemn day. I wished only to pay my respects to my friends."

With that, she hurried outside, but the fabric of the tent could not disguise the tortured sobs she released when those left inside could no longer see her.

"She is very upset," Nida spoke up. "She should not be alone."

"I will go after her," Sabira insisted as she pulled away from Kyle.

"_Lâ_," Nida protested kindly. "I will go. You remain here with our guests."

The slightest hint of the smile that played on her sister's mouth let Sabira know how Nida felt about her obvious attraction to Kyle. How it came to be, she could never explain; however, Sabira believed wholeheartedly that one cannot fight fate. She nodded her understanding to Nida and watched her leave the tent in search of Sidrah.

"What was the meaning of that outburst, Marid?" Hamid scolded fatherly. "It was unacceptable..."

Marid wasn't listening. "Obviously my words held no meaning, for nothing has changed." He waved a hand as if to swat away any further reprimands while he stormed from the tent. He needed to expel his anger before his wrath got the better of him.

"I do not understand my son's actions, Ardeth. I beg of you to..."

"The impetuousness of youth," Ardeth commented. His gaze fell upon Najya, momentarily wondering if she could shed light on the situation. That thought would have to wait; he knew how reluctant she was to voice things she acquired by her gifts. "There is something deep between your son and the maiden Sidrah. That is obvious."

"_Aiwa_," Sabira sighed. "Though neither has dared ever to speak of it, especially now."

Surprised, Rami glanced over at his cousin. "How is it that you know this, cousin? Marid has never confessed such a thing, even to me."

"What is to know?" Sabira questioned. "Just look into their eyes."

~*~

"Sidrah! Please...wait!" Nida called as she ran after her friend. A swift shake of Sidrah's head told Nida she would not be cooperating. She swatted impatiently at an errant lock of hair that fluttered onto her cheek while the chase continued. Sidrah was light on her feet, but Nida was determined and soon caught up with her.

"I only wish to help," Nida assured her.

Slowly, Sidrah turned and faced Nida. Resentment filled her, and like a flash flood, quickly dispelled. Nida was a friend since birth and was offering help in the name of that friendship. The nagging thought that Nida was also of the mind that she should release the bond of the marriage contract plagued Sidrah. That could be the only reason that drove Nida to offer help. Yet, she could not bear ill feelings toward Nida. That was something she reserved for herself. Squaring her shoulders, she raised her head and met Nida's gaze. "You cannot. It is foolish of you to even try."

"You do not love Ardeth," Nida stated. It was not a question; the truth in the declaration was obvious.

"I have never declared such," Sidrah agreed. "That matters not."

"It does to Ardeth," Nida insisted as she leaned back against the corral's fence. Silently she cursed Ghazi. How could any parent force such a situation onto a child he professed to love beyond life itself? Could he not see how tortured she was?

"I cannot go against _Abu_. I will not disgrace him," Sidrah answered as she joined Nida at the fence.

"You would deny your heart instead?" Nida asked incredulously.

"I will come to love the Chieftain," Sidrah reasoned. She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince more, her friend or herself. That she was even speaking about this with Nida shocked her to her center. "He is an honorable man. No one would pass up the opportunity to be his wife."

Nida nodded. She could not argue with that point. There was not a maiden in all the villages who would refuse the Chieftain. "And what of Marid?"

"Marid has nothing to do with this," she denied fiercely. Still, her eyes searched the compound and her heart gave a lurch when she spied the man in question as he entered the practice arena some distance away. She watched as he stripped down to his tunic and breeches, unsheathed his scimitar, and began his exercises. His movements were swift and sharp, his cries fierce and ugly. Anger spurred him; his actions were those of a man possessed, and Sidrah knew the blame of the betrayal he felt lay within her.

"Nothing?" Nida chided while she, too, studied her cousin. His lithe movements and expertise with the scimitar did little to ease her worry. His thoughts were in a dark place and, therefore, could lead him to lose concentration and injure himself. "If he has nothing to do with it, why do you look as though you have lost all hope?"

Gasping, Sidrah turned to Nida. "Why do you say this?"

Nida frowned and laid a comforting hand on Sidrah's shoulder. "Your feelings are not well hidden, _y__â sâHib_."

"Do you now possess the powers that are said to belong to the Chieftain's lover?" Sidrah snipped harshly.

"Rudeness does not become you, or our friendship, Sidrah," Nida quietly admonished. "You may speak of Najya any way you choose within the confines of your tent, but show her the respect she deserves as the _mara_ our Chieftain has chosen in front of others. That she is a Priestess should warrant your reverence as well, if you honor the old ways. Her powers are not your concern; however, I suspect your venom is due to wanting something you are being denied."

Sidrah hung her head slightly, reflecting her shame. "I ask only that you do not speak of this again, _y__â sâHib_."

The pain reflected in Sidrah's eyes nearly brought tears to Nida's. "If that is your wish."

"It is my wish."

~*~

Without ceremony, three warriors entered the tent of Elder Hamid. Each wore bland, expressionless looks on their faces, hiding the inner hell each fought to rise above.

With head held high and eyes unseeing, Jubran announced, "We are ready to ride at your command, _y__â__ ra'__î__s_."

--

_SamaH ana _-- forgive me

_Lâ_ – no

_Abu_ - father

_y__â__ ra'__î__s_ -- my chief

_y__â sâHib_ -- my friend

_Aiwa_ -- yes

_nisa_ – women


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Ardeth stood, acknowledging the entrance into Hamid's tent three of his best warriors and closest friends. He gazed in length at each man. Marks of their grief stained their robes, as was the tradition. He could ill afford to have them drop from blood loss during the ride in the late afternoon heat or the chill of the evening sands. "We will ride when you have seen the healer," he insisted calmly. His emotionless tone hid his worry from the others.

Nida entered at the moment Ardeth spoke. Her eyes trailed down the length of each warrior. Medjai tradition held that they perform some form of self-mutilation when grieving the death of a loved one. She could not determine where Jubran and Hadad had marked their flesh, but spied fresh blood slowly running down the hands of the warrior Qadir. He had sliced into his arms. "The healer is not in camp," she spoke, hastily moving into the center of the tent. "Sabira, Najya... help me tend their wounds."

Bewildered and unsure of what exactly was happening, Najya stood and joined Sabira. They were stopped in their tracks by a booming voice when they moved toward Nida.

"We are ready to ride," Hadad barked, announcing the attention of the _nisa_ was unwelcome.

"Do not be foolishly headstrong, Hadad," Ardeth warned. "You would allow a moment of pride to cause you to slip from your saddle while on our journey?"

When Hadad made no verbal comment and merely lowered his head in contrition, Ardeth nodded to Najya and Sabira who quickly joined Nida.

"We will return shortly with the supplies needed to treat your wounds," Nida informed them. Glancing back, her gaze again fell on the youngest warrior. His strong and noble features revealed nothing of his pain, yet grief flashed briefly in his beautiful gray eyes and Nida felt her heart to go out to him; to all of them. "Remove your robes and tunics," she ordered softly. "You will be on your way as quickly as manageable."

"I do not understand this form of grieving," Najya admitted as they hurried to the healer's tent. "What purpose does it serve?" she asked.

By this time they had reached their destination and Sabira stopped and turned an incredulous look upon Najya. "I realize you have much to learn about our ways; however, you have, yourself, committed this act to the extremist of measures. That is, if the stories told are true about what happened to the Chieftain and you at Philae."

Nodding, Najya confirmed their truth. "If you have heard Ardeth sacrificed his life for the well-being of all mankind. Further, if it has been told that I took my own life, unable to bear his loss, then the tales you have heard have been the truth."

Sabira noted the misty eyes of their new friend. "Then you must understand the pain of loss. To the Medjai, if you do not mourn the dead or dying, unexpressed grief will poison your blood." She ushered Najya into the tent while Nida held open the flaps for them. "We must purge our bodies of our grief, and allow the spirits of our loved ones to travel on to the next world. If we do not, we condemn them to an eternity between planes of existence."

"That makes sense, I suppose," she murmured while they gathered bandages and ointment.

"There is clean water and towels in Uncle's tent," Nida commented while searching the supply cabinet. "Of course, we do not know the extent of their wounds," she mused.

Sabira noted the alcohol, needles, and thread Nida procured from the cabinet. "You think those will be necessary?"

"It is possible," she answered, offering a thin smile. "We can only pray they have not damaged any muscle."

"While consumed by grief, it is difficult to measure the lengths in which you will go," Najya supplied quietly.

"_Aiwa_," Nida agreed. "Let us return and tend to our warriors."

Jubran sat stiff and uncaring while Najya knelt before him and cleansed the blood from his chest with a warm, damp cloth. Her eyes sought his many times while she went about the task of checking the wounds he inflicted on his chest and upper arms. He felt not a thing while she checked the deepness of each cut, gauging the damage he had done to himself. His soul was dead, along with the beautiful life of his darling Saeedah. As he stared down at the top of Najya's head, her lush black hair reminding him so much Saeedah's own sea of silky tresses, he vowed to avenge his love's death. Empty without her, he silently wondered how he would find peace within himself to go on once he met his objective. It seemed far too unreal to his bitter soul.

Unsure as to whether speak about his wounds, Najya worked in silence. After cleansing the wounds, she applied the ointment that they removed from the healer's tent. Nida explained that it was a paste the healer ground from special herbs he grew which deterred infection and contained healing properties.

Criss-crossed slashes marred the deep toned flesh of Jubran's chest and upper arms, forever scarring the symbolic tattoos of his Medjai status. She felt his grief, as she felt the grief of his friends and companions. She secured the bandages of the last poultice in place, only then allowing herself to sit back to look upon the other two warriors.

Hadad, Saeedah's older brother, bore the same expressionless features as Jubran. Najya watched as Sabira quietly tied the final bandage in place, silently amazed that he held his grief in check even while she knew of the unending pain in his heart,. Hadad's injuries had mirrored Jubran's. She was thankful that neither had ripped into muscle, and, although deep, their lacerations had not warranted stitching.

Najya moved from her perch in front of Jubran to Ardeth's side and looked on while Nida tended the lesser marred Qadir. Saeedah had been special to him because she was the wife and sister of his two closest friends, but he did not share the depth of their grief. It did not make his any less real or intense. Actually, Najya felt a different level of sorrow coming from the young warrior; something old, but nonetheless painful. Perhaps one day, she would find out what was the cause.

Hamid's voice finally broke the heavy silence that hung within the tent.

"It would be preferable if you would wait until dawn to travel," he suggested. He ran a wrinkled hand over his white bearded jaw in a gesture of worry.

With a shake of his head, Ardeth faced the Elder. "_Lâ_," he answered tersely. "The distance is not so far to the Eighth Tribe that we cannot make it by nightfall." When Hamid nodded his agreement, Ardeth turned back to Najya. Laying a light, but firm, hand on her shoulder, he said, "I would prefer if you and Kyle waited for dawn to arrive before making your journey."

The depth of concern she read in his deep russet eyes touched her soul. Yet, the nagging ache to retrieve her mother's journals had not lessened one bit since she discovered the possibility of their existence. "I cannot wait," she explained in a softened whisper. "It may seem a foolish need, but it is all that I have left of my mother. If they exist..."

He touched his warm palm to her cheek, silencing further protest. "There is no need to explain, _yâ_ Najya. It is a journey I would gladly make with you if there were not other matters to attend. We must discover the identity of the dogs who so viciously murdered our people."

Her hand closed over his and gently peeled it away from her face to place a light kiss to his palm. "And you have no need to explain either, my love. We will be the other's strength."

"As we have been," he agreed. He pulled away to address his men. "See to the horses and gather enough supplies for our journey. Make sure Kyle and Najya have enough food and water to travel on to Cairo."

The voices in the tent broke Qadir from his trance-like state. He had been deep in thought, his heart aching for the loss of Saeedah, but also for the worry he held for his adoptive sister, who often joined the trading expeditions. She was always on the lookout for bargains on clothing material and food stuffs that the tribe could not provide for themselves. No other names had been mentioned in the message, so Qadir could only wait and pray that his sister was not amongst the dead.

He glanced down at his left arm and found the wounds tended and bandaged. The sting of a poultice being placed over the deep slashes on his right arm caused him to focus on the _mara_ kneeling before him, her head bent to her task. The light from the oil lamps flickered, illuminating the blue-black of her hair. The light scent of roses filled his nostrils and his eyes fixed onto the top of the girl's head. _Nida? Is that your name?_ As if drawn by his thoughts, her head lifted and her eyes met his.

This was the first time he had been close enough to her to see the color of her eyes and he found himself fascinated by their opaque color. For a brief moment, his sorrow ebbed while he wondered just what she was thinking, for her eyes held such concern. Surely, it could not be for him, a mere acquaintance.

If he had been privy to her thoughts, he would have known he was wrong. Nida found herself fascinated by the wolf grey of his eyes and longed to see them bright with happiness, enhancing the flecks of olive within them. She lowered her gaze again while she finished the bandage on his arm. Without realizing it, her hand molded to the firm muscle of his arm. An inner voice spoke to her, assuring her he was a fine man, a strong warrior, and it was such a shame their paths might never cross again. Still, he was a friend to her cousins, and after their return, she might be bold enough to ask for their assistance in gaining favor with Qadir Omran.

Sitting back on her heels, she looked up once again into his handsome face. "The herbs in the poultice will keep infection at bay."

"_Shukran_, Nida. I am most grateful for your attention."

"_Ahlan wa sahlan_," she replied quietly.

"You are very kind." He smiled inwardly at the delicate blush that flooded her cheeks. He offered her his hand and after aiding her to her feet, he turned to face his Chieftain.

"It is time," Ardeth announced and without ceremony exited the tent.

Silently, everyone in the tent followed. The next step in their journey had begun.

Approaching the two great Roman fountains that lined both sides of the pathway that led to the Temple of Hathor's impressive gates, Rick slowed his camel to a stop. Jumping down, he sauntered to Evie's animal and helped her dismount.

"We'll set camp near the Sacred Lake," he announced once she had gained her footing. He took in the massive temple and all its structures. "We should have hired diggers."

"Really? Remember the time we tried that during that excursion in Tunisia?" A playful smile danced across her lovely mouth. "That went well."

Rick shrugged then began leading the camels toward the gates. The pack camels followed obediently. "I suppose that was my fault?"

"Of course not, darling. It was some other fellow's fist that beat the daylights out of those poor men," she replied sweetly while walking alongside him.

"Hey, I was only protecting your virtue," he defended. "I didn't realize you _enjoyed _having them spy on you while you bathed."

Evie laughed loudly, the sound echoing throughout the silent temple. "You, my good sir, are a brute."

"So you've told me." He winked playfully and then nodded toward the gates. "Where would you like to begin?"

Evie thought for a moment before replying. "There's no way to know where the necklace is hidden. Why don't we start with the outer buildings before moving on to the main temple? Let's start in the Roman Birth House."

"Sounds good." Again he took in the massive structure. "This is gonna take a while."

"Isn't it glorious?"

_aiwa_ - yes

_Lâ_ - no

_mara_ - woman

_Shukran_ – thank you

_Ahlan wa sahlan_ – you're welcome.


End file.
